Fixing What's Broken
by Ayingott
Summary: What would you do if after so many years of hurting you could finally be free? Well, Ryoma didn't have to think too much about it. He leaves Keigo only to suddenly meet him again, after years, as a model. What will happen now? Royal pair, mpreg, yaoi. INFINITE HIATUS
1. Because Of You

**Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, no real humans were used to make this story and the characters featured in this piece of work do not belong to me. Also, I do not make any profit from this.**

**Warning: possible grammar and spelling mistakes, as well as missing letters and/or words. **

**There will also be detailed sex scenes and possible violence, as well as bad language and slang words. This is/will be an mpreg (male pregnancy) story, so if this offends you please do not read it and turn back now.**

**Thank you for your understanding.

* * *

**

**Main Pairing: Royal Pair. **

**Side Pairings: At the moment I still don't know, but as I write there will be some.

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**

**Chapter One: Because Of You

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**

His footsteps echoed in the numerous corridors and rooms of the high-class house, or rather mansion, that belonged to none other than his current lover. But, he knew that he will soon be his ex-lover.

The suitcases and boxes with his stuff, as well as his trusty old cat, were already gone from this house, transported to the temple that his parents owned, or already sent to his new apartment in New York, close to where his older brother lived now. The funny thing was, his lover, even until this moment, hadn't noticed the lack of his stuff, or presence actually, in this house. Even the maids and butlers, more precisely, the whole staff of the house and his lover's parents knew about his leaving, except the man himself.

Ryoma didn't know what to do, cry, laugh or be angry about all of this.

The white envelope in his hand was no longer as smooth and unharmed as the day he had found it between his papers, contracts and documents. The pictures, countless pictures, with his soon to be ex, or better yet, his _ex,_ in it had fallen out on the floor once he opened it. The shock, pain and betrayal were clearly written over his face when the man's mother had come in to talk to him about something.

They decided that this has to end.

Why so fast, you want to ask? Because, Ryoma had known for a long, long time now. He knew about the countless affairs that his _ex_ had, and still has, with both men and women, not even bothering to hide the scent of the expensive perfume or cologne that was still lingering on him when he came home. Not to mention the times he had caught him in the act, in their own bed or seen the men and women running out of the house, right past him and the clothes or jewelry left behind.

He stepped in front of his ex's study's closed doors and could hear him talking to someone, Tezuka and Fuji to be exact, and clenched his fingers around the envelope even stronger, the paper ripping in some places. He took a deep breath, calming himself down and putting on the emotionless mask on his face. Without bothering to knock Ryoma opened the door, making Tezuka jump away from Keigo, and walked inside, straight to Keigo's desk and throwing the envelope, with the pictures inside it, in front of him.

Keigo looked at Ryoma and then back at the piece of paper in front of him: "What's this? A love letter from my dear lover?"

"Yeah, something like that." Ryoma forced the words out of his mouth, voice cold.

From the corner of his eye he saw Tezuka and Fuji looking at each other, before pointing their eyes on the envelope, which was now in Keigo's hands, as he slowly opened it. The man peered inside, the color draining from his face and cheeks becoming a bit paler. He quickly closed it and tried to hide it from Ryoma and the other two. A pointless action since Ryoma was in the room and ready to finally do what he had wanted to do for so long.

Snatching the thing from his _ex's_ sweaty hands he ripped it open and let the pictures, of Keigo and so many different people that he knew and didn't know, having sex in various places, drop on Keigo's desk, floor and the documents. He felt, more that saw, others, another bunch of cheap whores that had sex with Keigo and still dared to call themselves Ryoma's friends, walking into the room and then freezing after seeing what was going on.

Keigo started to get up from the chair he was sitting on, "Ryoma, listen love, I can-"

"Oh, shut the fuck up for once, you asshole!" Ryoma cursed a lot and they all knew it, but never before he had talked like that to Keigo, not even when he was pissed off to the limits. It seemed that now, it was worse than ever. "Do you really think that I'm a fucking moron who doesn't see and has mental problems!"

Keigo wanted to say something, but Ryoma once again cut him off. "I told you to _shut the fuck up, _didn't I?" the coldness and disgust that sipped though the words as Ryoma spoke made everyone in the room shudder. "Let me tell you this, you fucker." He then glared at Oshitari, Gakuto and Kikumaru that had come before he started to talk, "I'm neither blind, deaf, mental, nor am I simply oblivious to everything and everyone. I have _known _since the _very beginning _about you fucking everything that moves, has two legs and a hole where you can put in that thing that hangs between your legs and you know what? I was a complete idiot to hope that maybe, _just maybe,_ you would stop being a fucking monkey in heat."

The words left a deadly, suffocating silence in the room, Ryoma was breathing a little heavier than before, the three by the door moved closer to them, Oshitari reaching out a hand to touch Ryoma. "Echizen. Atobe was just… Umm… Confused about his feelings and…"

Ryoma snorted. "Confused? So he was _confused _for whole three years?" the sarcasm dripped from his words and he glared at the five behind his back. "Well, if he was so _confused_ then why the hell _you_ didn't help him get _less confused_? Or maybe even better," now he turned to look at Keigo again, slamming his hands on the black, wooden desk, "Why didn't you just stop using me as a shitty blow up sex doll and just dump me and get over it? Huh? Your _consciousness _didn't let you or something?"

"Ryoma, it's not like that… I was just… Oh God." Keigo took his face in his hands, "I'm sorry, I just never had enough, I needed more and I loved you, still love you, but just didn't have enough. I'm sorry." There was regret in his voice, but at that moment Ryoma didn't hear it. He didn't _want _to hear it.

"Your pathetic apologies won't bring me back the three years of my life that I wasted." At those words Keigo's head snapped up, his eyes wide and staring at the 20-year-old man in front of him, not believing what he had just said.

He stood up, hands on the desk as well, "Ryoma, you-"

"That's right, you heard me right." Ryoma stood straighter up, ready to leave any moment, "I wasted _three whole years _dating a fucking asshole and motherfucker like you, and now…" he laughed, "I will stop hoping that you might change, because that will never happen, obviously, I will stop hurting and finally start living. _Away from_ _you._"

Tezuka, the man he _once _respected, grabbed his hand and twirled around to face him. "You can't do that Echizen. Kei-_Atobe_, didn't know what he was doing and he loves you more than anything."

"Oh yeah, I can see that." The sarcasm was there again. "Oh and by the way, you shouldn't treat a sick person like that, my doctor won't be happy you know." Ryoma pulled his hand away from Tezuka's grasp and faced Keigo again. "By the way, it's your fault you know that?"

Gakuto and Kikumaru didn't even know what to say, they both had that expression of guilt on their faces, as the pictures looked up from the floor at them, laughing and making fun at them. Kikumaru slumped on the floor, his face hidden in his palms and quiet, badly hidden, sobs came from behind them.

"What do you mean, you're sick Echizen?" Fuji asked, coming closer to the young male, stepping on the colorful pictures on his way, "Did something happen?"

Ryoma snorted again, "Yeah, a lot of thing happened. But I don't think that I have to tell about my private affairs to you of all people, Sunday lover-san." The sweetness of Ryoma's voice was piercing. "It sickens me that I even know your sex date schedule _Atobe. _I almost feel like vomiting." Though, only he knew that the vomiting was the cause of something else, not the information that he knew.

"Ryoma…" Keigo stretched out his hand, wanting to touch the hurt man he once could call his lover, but the other stepped back a few steps, something similar to disgust on his face.

Ryoma stepped back and whispered in a quiet voice: "Don't touch me with your dirty hands you bastard." He looked around one more time, taking in the expressions of the people in the room and then let his gaze land on Keigo for the last time. "I'm leaving, far away, for good. You hear me? And I don't want you going around looking for me, trying to apologize and all that other shit that you would do. I want to be left alone and I don't want to hear from you _ever again_, got that?" he didn't wait for an answer as he turned around on his heel and walked away, from both Keigo and his pain. "I hope your dick rots and falls off, maybe then you will start thinking with your head not that piece of flesh." Ryoma smirked to himself and raised his middle finger back at the six people that he left behind.

_I'm finally free. _He thought to himself and allowed a real smile grace his lips once he was outside the cabinet and let his left hand brush over his abdomen. Maybe now he will be able to live for once.

* * *

"I fucking fucked up." Keigo whispered to the empty room.

Those pictures with him having sex with all those people still were on the desk and floor, some torn up and had the marks of someone's shoes on them, but still, they were laughing straight in his face. He didn't ask his maids or butlers to pick them up and dispose of them, it didn't matter anymore.

Because Ryoma was gone and it was all his fault, he was the one who pretended that Ryoma wouldn't find out. He was the one that treated Ryoma like some cheap prostitute who will always be ready to please him and would never leave. He had seen the looks on Ryoma's face, the pain and hurt, but didn't bother to think too much about it.

He had been the one to ask Ryoma out, so he thought that it was ok to do what he did, because Ryoma would stay by his side anyway. But it seemed that he had just been a huge idiot. And now.. Now, just now, when he has lost Ryoma forever, he finally understands why he asked the man, young teen at that time, out and wanted Ryoma to be besides him.

He realized that he loves Ryoma so much and so desperately only now, when it's too late.

"Fuck." Keigo cursed under his breath and two hot, salty tears streamed down his cheeks from behind his palms, that covered his eyes. "_Fuck._"

* * *

**A/N: *sigh*, so yeah, I should update on Fridays, I know that, but… But… This isn't an update, noooo, this is the first chapter for the fic that you people voted for. I wanted to post it up this Friday, but I didn't manage to finish it in time, so here it is. :D**


	2. It Starts

**Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, no real humans were used to make this story and the characters featured in this piece of work do not belong to me. Also, I do not make any profit from this.**

**Warning: possible grammar and spelling mistakes, as well as missing letters and/or words. **

**There will also be detailed sex scenes and possible violence, as well as bad language and slang words. This is/will be an mpreg (male pregnancy) story, so if this offends you please do not read it and turn back now.**

**Thank you for your understanding.

* * *

**

**Main Pairing: Royal Pair. **

**Side Pairings: At the moment I still don't know, but as I write there will be some.

* * *

**

**Chapter Two: ****It Starts

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**

The never ending phone ringing and the yells of people, workers, never seemed to stop at the always busy company. Papers flew in every direction when someone slipped while carrying them, arguments about the best photo shoots and the places where to do them, the photographers who are to do it filled the rooms.

It was madness to anyone from outside, but to the ones working there and having already gotten used to this, it was just another, normal day.

It was here, at the top story of the building that you could find one tired-looking Atobe Keigo hunched over the never ending stack of papers and notes, invitations to yet another business party or a fashion show.

The pen clattered against the papers as it was thrown away by the person working with it. Keigo leaned back, against the back of the chair, made especially for him, and closed his eyes, fingertips massaging the closed eyelids. He hadn't slept for day's now due to the amount of work because of the photo shoots and spoiled models.

A soft click of the door and the loudness of the outside world drifted in the room for a moment, silenced when the door closed behind the black-haired woman. With quick steps, even when those feet were wearing red six inch heels, she moved from one side of the office to the other, throwing a big brown convert on top of all the documents.

"Atobe-san, this is an urgent message from 'Aurora's Kiss'." Her words seemed to get Keigo's attention, "Please take a look at it and then notify them of your answer. Thank you." She didn't bother with giving too much detail of the situation and just told the basics. She spun around, the black knee-length skirt lifting up a bit and the red blouse making a rustling noise, and walked out of the room as fast as she came.

Keigo made a face, "Thank you Anzu." He sighed before giving the convert a disgusting look, this reminded him too much of what happened three years ago and thus, he had to control himself and not let his arms throw the damn thing into the overstuffed trash bin.

He scanned over the contents of the small letter from the director of 'Aurora's Kiss' and frowned. This was happening in _such _a shitty time, it almost made Keigo laugh; if not the fact that now he had to _redo_ everything in such a short time span.

_Dear mister Keigo Atobe,_

_I am truly sorry to notify you of this, but the model you had chosen for the new __**'Seduction'**__ project, Billy Hughes, has been hospitalized because of some health problems. He will not be able to take part of this project and for that we are truly sorry._

_So, I send you profiles of our best models in hopes that you will choose one of them instead of Billy. I can assure you, that all of them are professionals and take their work very seriously, as well fit in with your demands concerning __**'Seduction'**__._

_I hope to hear your answer as soon as possible,_

_Edward Hawk.*_

The businessman sighed and allowed the note to slip out of his fingers and watched as it slowly fluttered down and gently touched the carpeted floor. He watched the words written in dark blue ink, the slightly curved handwriting, slanting one side a bit. mocked him, and made a face again; how he hated that handwriting.

He shook the ten or so profiles of the models that Hawk had sent him, out of the convert and went over each, all the while thinking about the preparations that should be done now. All the pretty men that he went over looked the same to him, maybe the hair color changed, but everything else…

"Pathetic. And he wants me to use these empty shells as the face of 'Seduction'?" Keigo frowned again, "Fucking idiot." He threw the profile of a blond Hannah Montana look-alike (only a man) over his shoulder and got ready to deny the last one, but when his eyes landed on the name of the model he stopped.

There, staring right at him, was the name, and under it a picture, of the one person he had longed to see for so long. Keigo noted that he hadn't changed much, maybe the hair got a bit longer and the edges of his face a little sharper, almost as if he had been thought something difficult. And he did; Keigo whispered in his head, a sad smile adorning his face.

Staring right at him was Echizen Ryoma, the one that he had lost about three years ago.

He didn't have to think twice to fumble around his desk blindly, eyes not leaving the picture, in blind tries to find the phone, which he did after a while. After pushing some buttons the voice of his secretary, Anzu, tingled his ear as she spoke. "_Yes, Atobe-san. Did you go through the content of the letter?_"

"I did, yes, just now." Keigo gently placed the profile on his desk and leaned back, "Please notify Hawk-san that I have chosen the model named Echizen Ryoma for the 'Seduction' project."

He heard the clicking of the keyboard as the woman typed in an inhuman speed. "_Will there be anything else you would like to tell him?_" the slightly curios tone of her voice was louder than the clicking, though, the undertone of her voice told otherwise.

"No, that would be all." Keigo cut off the conversation and made the chair rotate, his face now facing the wall usually behind his back, a see through glass from ceiling to floor, providing him with the sight of the busy city.

"Ryoma. Who would have thought…" he said, fingers raking though the purple locks on his head.

* * *

"Shuya, come back here! Shuya!" the all too well known yells that usually filled the Echizen household once again could be heard in the flat. Together with smaller and bigger footsteps running around the corridor and rooms, mixed with the sounds of a little kid laughing.

Ryoma did a homerun slide in order to get in front of the hyper three-year-old, thus blocking the little kid's only escape route. Thankfully, or maybe not, Shuya's coordination skills still weren't that good, so he didn't brake on time and fell, face flat, on Ryoma's stomach. It was just at the very same second that Shuya's nose touched the dark red, long-sleeved shirt, that Ryoma's wound hands around him and hugged the kid close to himself.

Shuya tried to push away from his dad, all the while yelling: "Don't want to, don't want to! No kindergarten! NOOO!" Though, the yells weren't as loud as one would expect, since they were somewhat muffled by Ryoma's shirt.

With a grunt and a sigh Ryoma got up, his son still in hands and went out of the living room, out in the small, narrow corridor of the little flat. "You're not going to kindergarten, don't worry. Today, uncle Ryoga will look after you." He gave the kid a curious glance and smirked after seeing the surprised, wide, dark blue eyes looking up at him.

"Really?" Ryoma gave an approving nod as an answer. "Really, really?" Shuya wrapped his short little hands around his dad's neck and hugged as well as he could. "Arigato daddy!"

Once Shuya was properly dressed for the chilly fall weather they were ready to go. Shuya hanging on his neck, left hand holding the kid up, Ryoma locked the door and made his way down from the fourth floor of the apartment complex and out on the busy and wet New York street. People passed by, either holding a shabby looking umbrella above their heads, just enough for their heads not to get wet, wearing a cheap looking raincoats over the business suits, or simply ignored the strong downpour by wearing a hood that hid their faces.

The cold water and mud splashed on all sides as Ryoma walked, his step fast and determined, through the sea of people and getting closer to where his brother lived. The model, ex tennis player, was aware that Ryoga was probably still sleeping, even if it was already past ten in the morning, but the older Echizen was sure to welcome his little nephew in his flat. He usually did.

After Dialing the numbers at the entrance and then hearing the affirmative _**beep**_ of the mechanical lock Ryoma stepped in the dryness of the empty, yet cold, staircase. After that, he allowed his son to walk on his own. Their footsteps echoed as they walked, the _clack, clack, clack_ sounds making the little kid hold his dad's hand a little tighter that necessary.

"_Who the fuck is this?_" Ryoga's moody and sleep slurred voice cracked through the small microphone next to the door, after Ryoma had called for good three minutes. The young dad had known that his older brother would answer as he did, so he had already covered Shuya's ears with his hands.

He left the hands were they were, "It's me, idiot. I called you yesterday, didn't I?"

There was a pause. "_Ah, yeah… I recall something like that._" With a sigh Ryoma let his hands slide down Shuya's face, stopping to rest on the little shoulders, just as Ryoga's voice cracked through the microphone once again. "_Come in chibi._"

"Shuya, listen to me." The kid made a serious face at those words, "Do not drink anything that uncle Ryoga gives you, ok. I packed apple juice in your backpack, so you should be fine." Last time Ryoga tried to feed his son beer just when Ryoma came to pick him up. The older Echizen's arm was in a cast for a while after that incident.

"Hey, hey…" Ryoma looked at his older brother; frown on his face, "That was the first and last time! I swear!"

* * *

The modeling agency 'Aurora's Kiss' was just as lively as it had been from long ago, the people still yelled, laughed and chatted with each other in that careless manner that suggested that they don't really have anything better to do. The neat, and less neat, piles of papers towered on the desks of the workers, some white; some had neat lines of black text and some had dark rings remaining from the workers morning cup of coffee.

Ryoma made his way through the busy floors, all the while waving or returning the greeting to some of the people he knew, models, agents and simple workers, stuck to the computer screen from the early morning. He stopped only when the black metal doors that led to the director's office were standing five meters away from him, partly blocked by the table that the old secretary, missis Jonson, was sitting at.

She lifted her head and smiled a kind smile to the one of the top models of 'Aurora's Kiss': "How are you this morning Ryoma?"

"The same as always, Martha, the same as always." He returned the smile, "Is boss in? He asked me to come meet him today. Even my shoots were canceled because of this." He placed his elbows on the high surface that hid the actual desk behind it, and leaned a bit forward.

Martha shooed him away with her hand, "No peaking, this is meant just for my old eyes." But she did laugh a bit; the oversized, old-style glasses sliding own her nose a bit. She pushed them up and cleared her throat, "Let's see here… Yeah, he's in and waiting for you." She looked up from the screen again, "You might like what he's about to tell you."

"Maybe Martha, maybe. We'll see when he actually tells me, now won't we?" Ryoma answered her and pushed himself off the surface. "See 'ya later." He told her over his shoulder.

Martha started to write on the keyboard again, the clicking becoming louder, "Yeah, yeah."

Three knocks on the door and Ryoma walked in, the rush of the outside world disappeared when the metal clinked shut behind him. His boss, Edward Hawk, was sitting in the expensive looking leather chair, face turned away from Ryoma and in the direction of the busy city and skyscrapers, almost blending with the grey sky and the heavy downpour. He didn't turn around when he started to speak, the cup of steaming tea in his chubby right hand, "Good morning Ryoma. Sit down on one of the chairs and get yourself a cup of tea. It's pretty chilly today," he took a sip of the hot drink, humming in content, "the winter in coming closer it seems."

"Indeed, it seems so." Ryoma agreed, but didn't take up the offer of tea.

They sat in a relative silence for a while (this happened always when Ryoma came for an important talk), one sipping his drink, the other looking pointedly at the back of the leather chair where his boss's nape should be.

Edward sighed and rotated the chair, revealing the old, slightly cubby, wrinkly face, the dull grey eyes, covered by glasses, the grey moustache and bold head and faced Ryoma; the cup clinked against the desk as it was placed on it. The gray eye's bore into Ryoma's fiery golden ones and he smiled, "You are a strong one Ryoma, and I'm not just trying to suck up to you."

"I know." A smirk, "You're not that type of a person, mister Hawk." Ryoma leaned back and crossed his legs, "So, what did you want from me?"

The old man smiled a knowing smile and got up from his chair, walking as he talked, "Do you know about the project 'Seduction', Ryoma?" there was something reminding a humor in his voice.

"I know, Billy was chosen for it right? But then that had to happen…" he sighed, his hand going through the shoulder-length black hair, "So, what did the people from '13' said?"

Edward laughed again, going back to his seat, hands holding a small, white envelope with the logo of Japan's number one modeling agency '13' on it in red, fiery ink. "I sent them a letter of apology and some profiles, yours between them by the way Ryoma, and they, or more precisely, the owner sent me back this." He smirked his own smirk, that strange, childish and scheming glint in his eyes. He gave the envelope to Ryoma, who took it with suspicion on his face.

Ryoma opened the envelope, unpleasant memories flashing in his head for a moment, and took out the white piece of paper, the purple ink glowing in a strange light up at him. He read the whole message and was already about to ask his boss about the dirty ways he's used to get this ready, but his eyes stopped at the last two words on the bottom of the page.

"Ryoma…" Ryoma's head snapped up and he stared at the old man, whose face had now that knowing look that reminded Ryoma of a father, "Whatever happened there and whatever you had with Keigo Atobe, you have to either leave it behind and forget, or face it head on, no matter what the outcome is." Then he smiled again, "As well as show them what we are made of."

Maybe, just maybe it won't be so bad; Ryoma thought and read the short letter one more time.

* * *

***It's written in English**

**A/N: IT'S SNOWING IN LATVIA! :D And it's damn cold too. **

**Anyway, I didn't have tons of free time, like I used before this week, so you will have to bear with this one update. Hopefully, you liked the chapter and it was at least a little bit entertaining. :)**


	3. When You Look At Me

**Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, no real humans were used to make this story and the characters featured in this piece of work do not belong to me. Also, I do not make any profit from this.**

**Warning: possible grammar and spelling mistakes, as well as missing letters and/or words. **

**There will also be detailed sex scenes and possible violence, as well as bad language and slang words. This is/will be an mpreg (male pregnancy) story, so if this offends you please do not read it and turn back now.**

**Thank you for your understanding.

* * *

**

**Main Pairing: Royal Pair. **

**Side Pairings: At the moment I still don't know, but as I write there will be some.

* * *

**

**Chapter Three: When You Look At Me.

* * *

**

"So you really are leaving?" Ryoga asked; his can of beer hanging loosely in the air, barely held from falling by Ryoga's fingertips.

They were sitting in Ryoga's apartment, Ryoma had just told his brother about him going back to Japan, about modeling for Atobe's '13', about the secret plans of his boss, his own feelings, his fear of seeing all those people again, probably.

About everything that he had on his heart right now.

Ryoma smiled a bitter smile, a small little thing, and found his three-year-old son with his eyes, playing like a good kid that he was. "I have to, they asked especially for me." The look in his now half-lidded eyes changed to that of a feeling of pain, painted with sadness, "Besides, that old scheming man won't just accept my 'no', I have no other choice. Fuck." The last word was said so quietly that his older brother probably didn't hear the sound. Only saw the lips forming that one syllable.

"Are you sure you want to go alone? At least let me come with you. Someone will have to look after Shuya anyway." Ryoga sighed, knowing that now his little brother won't back down. His pride was the only thing still was there from the life he once had. "Mom and old man won't be much of a help. '13' is far from their place, you know that."

"I won't take Shuya with me." Ryoma mumbled, his head in his palms, his whole body looked tired and worn out from everything that he had gone through. It was a state he only dared to show to Ryoga.

Ryoga's eyes widened and the beer can fell out of his loose grasp, the liquid splashing on the wooden parquet and on the black leather chair. Though, the man didn't care at the moment. "What the hell? You want to say that you're just gonna leave him here, all alone? At some crazy, old woman's place?" the disbelief was so powerful and managed to make Ryoma flinch, his tired eyes fixing a glare at his brother.

"Are out of your drunken mind?" the anger was dripping from his words, "Do you really thing I'm going to do something as low as that? Moron. I was going to leave him with you, like I always do." He nodded with his head at Ryoga, voice no longer holding the anger and eyes closed once again. "Besides, the last thing he needs to see is his useless idiot of a father."

Ryoga relaxed visibly, a sigh escaped from his mouth and he sat back own in the chair, hand going through his short hair, messing them up even more. "I see. You _are_ right about that."

Ryoma laughed to himself, shaking his head in disbelief, "How the hell I am even related to you?" he peered at his brother, bangs in front of his eyes.

"Shut up, you just didn't get much of our old man's genes. Lucky bastard." A friendly laugh bubbled from Ryoga's throat and he peered down on the puddle of the alcoholic drink next to his chair and let out a few colorful words and decided to clean up later.

They sat and talked a while longer, Shuya sitting in Ryoma's lap and fallen asleep somewhere in the middle of the conversation. When they had managed to make clear some of the important things regarding Ryoma's work and Shuya the younger of the two brothers left the apartment, his sleeping son held safely in his harms and headed home.

The streets were just as crowded as they were in the morning, maybe the bright neon lights made them look differently. As if this was a completely different world, so far from the reality of the everyday stress and troubles, full of fun and entertainment; starting from cheap bars to host and strip clubs. The nighttime life in New York was like a new world.

Known and yet, still so unexplored and fresh.

* * *

The noise of people laughing, talking and the seldom announcements through the speakers didn't exactly make Ryoma's mood better. He still wasn't so sure about the whole thing and the slight worry about his son didn't let him calm down.

Someone pulled his hand, the tugging snapping him out of the daydream he had gone into. Ryoma looked down on the sad looking boy, some of the light purple locks poking out from under the hat and falling in front of his eyes. A smile crawled on the parent's face as he crouched down. "What's the matter Shuya? Worried?"

"Daddy, you will come back right?" Shuya's small hand tightened its hold on the two of his father's right hand's fingers in his grasp. "Daddy won't leave me alone, right?"

Ryoma brushed the hair out of his son's face, the smile still playing on his lips. "Of course I won't. After daddy is done with work he'll come back, with lots of presents, ok? He won't leave you behind." He poked Shuya's nose, "Where did that come from anyway?"

The little boy looked down on the ground, his left foot kicking invisible things in front of himself as he mumbled under his nose: "Uncle said that the place where daddy is going is where mommy lives. And that mommy will take daddy away from me." He sniffed a bit and looked up again.

"Shuya." Ryoma hugged his son, "Don't listen to your idiot uncle. Mommy can't do that, since she doesn't like daddy and daddy doesn't like her anymore." He tightened his hug, the last memories of Keigo surfacing in front of his eyes.

He never did tell Shuya about the fact that his 'mommy' was actually a 'daddy'. And that he, himself, was the 'mommy' here. Little kids shouldn't know about things like this, is what Ryoma had said when Shuya was born. When the little one asked Ryoma just said that his mother is living somewhere else, far away from them and doesn't have the time to see the little kid.

_This is for the best_, was the only thought in Ryoma's head when the held the small baby close to himself, cradling it to sleep.

"Oi, hurry up, the check-in has started Ryoma." Ryoga's voice boomed over the crowd, the impatience clear and vivid. "If you miss the flight I won't be blamed for it this time." The annoying smile of some unknown victory almost sparkled on his face.

Ryoma took Shuya but the hand and both started to walk towards perfectly lined up small check-in desks with a smiling girl behind each of them. He gave one last hug to his son and said the last words to Ryoga, making him promise one more time to look after Shuya and the left them, walking towards a smiling blonde.

Ryoga watched his little brother's back, Shuya next to him, "Your dad will come back, don't worry." He ruffled the kid's hair, removing the hat before, and snickered, "Since he's the strongest man I know." The pride in his voice could not be mistaken for anything else.

"I know." The three-year-old said and looked up at his uncle, "Daddy is the best." The complete and unquestionable and unshakable trust of the little boy towards his father was something to be admired. Ne didn't doubt that Ryoma would come back.

Ryoga smirked: "You're right. You're right brat."

He watched as a plain, not the one Ryoma was supposed to be in, flew up in the sky and disappeared in the white clouds, swallowed by the blue and white, only the smoke left behind it. The sight reflected in his eyes and Ryoga couldn't help but feel that something will go not the way it has been planned to go.

* * *

The café, located in '13''s building, was the only place where the workers, and the owner, could enjoy a relaxing cup of coffee and a warm meal during the hectic workday. In this small café, which was unusually empty for this time of the day, one cold find the owner of '13' himself, Atobe Keigo, chatting with a frail looking man in his twenties.

The man's arm was resting on an expensive looking camera, his tool of work. The photographer had light-brown hair, cut so that the strands reached only his chin, eyes closed and a warm smile decorating his face. The black coat he was wearing covered whatever he had under, giving the man a mysterious air around him.

"So, Fuji, that is what happened in the past days while you were gone." Keigo sipped his latte, "Will you do it? Or I should organize someone else to take over this shoot?" the blue-eyed man didn't look at Fuji anymore. His eyes were scanning the profile of the model once again.

Fuji, on the other hand, looked thoughtful and his answer showed that he still hasn't made the decision. "I'm not sure that what you are doing is the right thing Atobe. Things will only get worse, and that's also if he still remembers." His finger poked the picture glued on the white sheet of paper. "Besides, he probably has a new life by now."

Keigo looked at Fuji, face unreadable, hands still holding the white cup of latte. "He doesn't."

"And how the hell do _you_ know that?" Fuji frowned, "It's not like he would stay single for so look; not with those looks." He gestured at the paper in the middle of the round table. "He's a model for Christ's sake. And you know models well Atobe. We both do." He didn't smile anymore, a small line of blue glinting through the bangs.

Keigo turned the page around, so that Fuji could read it and pushed closer to the photographer using the tips of his fingers. "Look at him. He hasn't changed; the look in his eyes is still the same. That much I know about him Fuji. He isn't your average model."

Fuji didn't even try to listen, he pushed the profile back at Keigo, leaning over the table and whispering in a low voice: "Still the same? Atobe, after _that _his personality did a one-hundred-eighty. There no such thing as 'still the same', you know that. You were there when a part of him died _before_ you killed the other half." He pulled back and crossed his legs. "But, I'm ok with working with him. On _Seduction_ I mean." He was once again the picture of calmness, not willing to speak about the matter with Ryoma.

"Thank you Fuji. I'm sure you will be pleased with his work." Keigo smirked, the latte gone.

It seemed like the photographer rolled his eyes, but you never know, and stood up, signaling the end of this meeting, "I will go through his shoots and find out what to expect." He said, voice even. "But Atobe, I'll say this just one more time." He gave his employer one final look, "Nothing good will come out of this, even if Echizen in a top class model. You won't gain his trust in some dirty way like you have planned to do." He gave a curt nod and walked out of the room, leaving the model's profile and Keigo almost alone in the cozy café.

* * *

The usually so quiet workplace of one Fuji Syuusuke was now taken over by the sounds of romantic music, talking about love, pain, sadness, loneliness and everything else that could be entwined in those cheesy lyrics that the photographer hated so much.

His computer screen was the only light source in the room, his eyes carefully examining each picture that had the model, who will be under his charge soon, searching for any detail that would count as a mistake on the models part. But he found none. The expression, look, pose, everything was so perfect and yet natural at the same time.

"Almost like a God, meant just for the camera." Fuji whispered quietly. The surprise in his voice was hard to notice, but still there. "Maybe this is fate?"

There was a knock before his lover, Yukimura Seiichi, another model, walked inside. He was holding a plate of food and a steaming cup of tea, his face told that 'no' wasn't considered as an answer. He placed the things in front of his lover, thus not letting him continue his work and sat down next to Fuji.

His eyes landed on the screen and widened a bit. "He's a model?"

"Seems so." Fuji sighed and a piece of meat disappeared in his mouth, together with come potatoes, "He's going to be a part of _Seduction_. I don't get what Atobe is thinking. That idiot." Annoyance sipped through his words.

Yukimura chuckled and brushed the strands of hair out of Fuji's eyes. "Atobe is Atobe." He simply said, as a small laugh broke out from his mouth, "Nothing will change that." He poked Fuji's nose. "Glasses don't suit you much."

"Thank you." Fuji laughed too.

Yukimura's eyes returned to the computer screen. "So I'm to work with him?" a sigh, "I wonder how _that_ will work out. It's no secret what happened." It sounded like he had remembered some unwanted memories. Something that he had tried so hard not to remember.

"Personal problems are not to be a part of work Seii, you know that." Fuji drank his tea, savoring the minty taste on his tongue, "He looks professional, so nothing will happen. Don't worry."

He was given a kiss before the model left the room; once again darkness swallowed Fuji, his face ghostly white in the light coming from the computer screen. He once again magnified Ryoma's face and frowned. "His eyes," his fingers touched the screen,"They really are almost dead."

* * *

**A/N: A bit late, I know. But I simply didn't make it in time. :D**


	4. Don't

**Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, no real humans were used to make this story and the characters featured in this piece of work do not belong to me. Also, I do not make any profit from this.**

**Warning: possible grammar and spelling mistakes, as well as missing letters and/or words. **

**There will also be detailed sex scenes and possible violence, as well as bad language and slang words. This is/will be an mpreg (male pregnancy) story, so if this offends you please do not read it and turn back now.**

**Thank you for your understanding.

* * *

**

**Main Pairing: Royal Pair

* * *

**

**Chapter Four: Don't.

* * *

**

He stepped out of the check-in territory, his eyes going over the crowd consisting of tourist, guests and those that waited for their friends and family. He sighed and made a small move to make his bag hang more comfortably on his shoulder; the strap was starting to cut into his skin. Even through the long-sleeved shirt he was wearing.

_They said someone will be here to meet me. _Ryoma scanned the crowd one more time, already searching for his phone.

He thought that there will be, at least, a sign with his name or a face that would have the grumbles of hard work etched in it and a professional smile on the lips. A professional when it comes to these things. His fingers already danced around the small buttons, forming a number… But then a push on his shoulder made him turn his head.

Behind him stood a black-haired woman, panting heavily and holding on his persona for support, exhausted from running. Obviously. The square-shaped glasses, surrounded by the thin black frame, slid down her nose, the olive green eyes looking up at him. She sighed and straightened out her form, smoothing out her cream colored cardigan and the black formal pants.

She looked him in the eye, "Echizen Ryoma-san, I presume?" her tone even, no sign that she had been out of breath just seconds before.

"Depends." He answers, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Takahiro Anzu. Secretary of Atobe Keigo, the director of '13'. Pleased to meet you." She didn't sound offended, probably because she was used to people like Ryoma.

Ryoma accepted the outstretched hand and nodded slightly. "Same here."

She led him to the car, a red Lexus IS cabriolet, and then they drove out on the busy streets of Tokyo. Neither of them felt the need to talk, it was something unnecessary and actually quite annoying. Though, Ryoma could feel here eyes looking at him from time to time during the drive, but it wasn't the usual look that people gave him.

She broke the silence when they could spot a part of the '13's building. "May I ask you a question before we get there?"

Ryoma looked at her, probably the second time this far that he actually took in her appearance. She was quite nice to the eyes. He thought about it and looked away from her. "Once again, it depends."

"Do you by any chance know Atobe-san?" she turned left, avoiding a traffic jam. "He usually doesn't talk to models himself. Unless he either knows them very good, or has been interested by something." She once again turned, driving into a small street.

"I don't know him personally." Ryoma lied, not missing a second to answer her question, "Just as much as the media provides for the people. That's all."

She hummed to herself before speeding up a bit. Silence once again settled between them. The ride to the main building wasn't long after that. It seemed like the little steers they were taking had no one on them, as if the rest of the people had disappeared.

The red Lexus stopped at the tall building, most of the walls covered in glass and see-through. The people were running in and out of it, the door never really closing. She waited for Ryoma to get out of the car and then started to walk, expecting Ryoma to followed her, into the building and through the hallways and then up with the elevator. People greeted her on the way, Ryoma ignored everyone, and some of the female workers seemed to check him out, whispering to their friends, right after he was out of the hearing zone.

"Are they always like this every time they see a model? Or that's just me?" he asked Anzu when they were in the elevator, safe from uncalled ears and eyes.

The secretary turned her eyes on him for a moment, "I think it is because of your looks. And not many models from America, that work with us, come to the main building, since I am the one to usually explain them everything. Not the boss himself." She checked her phone while answering the model. "Since boss is usually too busy for this." She once again eyed Ryoma.

The small 'ding' signaled of the end of the ride, the door slowly sliding open. In front of Ryoma's eyes was a stylishly decorated hallway, the red carpet standing out in comparison of the white walls, with photographs that hung on the walls, showing the owners partners and the owner himself. Anzu briskly walked past Ryoma, turning right, right after stepping out of the elevator.

The walk wasn't long until the black wooden doors, clearly leading to Keigo's office, came in sight after turning at another corner. Anzu knocked and walked straight in, Ryoma following, albeit a bit unwillingly.

* * *

Keigo watched as Anzu left his office, leaving Ryoma behind. Even though it was his own wish to speak to him like this, explain the whole idea behind '_Seduction_' and where he will live for the time being and his schedule, but now that he was left alone in this room with Ryoma… His past lover… It was hard to start something.

He bit the inside of his cheek, not an action he did a lot, and closed his eyes, trying to gather thoughts and decide with what he will start. "Ryoma, I-"

"It's Echizen to you, _Atobe-san_." The way Ryoma said his name almost made the man flinch. It seemed that Ryoma refused to acknowledge the past that they shared. Or maybe he has already forgotten about it.

Either way, the hate was still there.

"I understand. Well then, Echizen-san, just how much do you know about '_Seduction_'? Though, I believe that Hawk-san has told you the basics." Keigo tried to keep it formal, just like any other meeting.

Ryoma answered with a curt nod, his arms still crossed over his chest. "It's all about being seductive and making both women and men long for you, while you show off the new designer clothes. The collection's name is also '_Seduction_', just like the theme of this photo shoot."

Keigo nodded in approval. "Yes, indeed. Do you need further information?" he tried to sound formal.

Ryoma shook his head in return, "That's all I need to know in order to do what is asked from me and do it good."

"In that case, should we know something that was not written in your profile? Something, that might affect the photo shoot, scars or tattoos for example." Keigo had hard time to keep control over himself and refrain from trying to get Ryoma to talk to him about _them_. What they had. Ask for forgiveness.

"I have big scar or the backside of my right leg. But it usually doesn't interfere with the shoot." Ryoma's keen eyes saw the guilt flashing through Keigo's, but chose to ignore it. It was his entire fault anyway. All of it. "But what I'm interested is, will I do only single shoots, or there will be shoots where I will be paired up with another model?"

Keigo was reaching for some papers at the moment. "Yes, there will be cases like that. And maybe, you will be asked to work together with more than one person. Is that a problem?" he dig through the papers and glanced at his former lover.

"No. Just curious."

"Good." Keigo pulled out one document, or maybe just a simple note, from the stack of papers and giving it an once-over look handed to Ryoma, "This is the address of where you will live and the schedule for the shoots that you will be in." He pulled out another, much smaller piece of paper, from one of the drawers. "And here are the phone numbers and names of your photographs, some of the models that you will work with and people that you can ask for if something goes wrong."

"This is all that I have to know?" Ryoma looked at long list of numbers and dates and places, slightly confused at first but then started to slowly remember where the places are. He stopped at the name Fuji Syuusuke for a while longer than necessary, but didn't say anything.

Keigo looked thoughtful for a second, but not because of the question that was asked him just now. "No, that would be all." He thought over a bit, but before he could speak someone knocked and came in without receiving an answer.

In came Fuji, looking rather pissed off, and him followed two models, from the looks of it. One had short, bleached hair and he looked like a mix between Japanese and some other nationality, his eyes were closed and mouth twisted in a smile. The other had shoulder-length, black hair, his grey eyes had immediately landed on Ryoma, never leaving him once. They both were rather tall, it was hard to tell just how much, and they were wearing matching blue and silver yukata's.

"Fuji!" Keigo sounded surprised, "Why are you here? And what about them?" he nodded to the two behind him. "Shouldn't you be working right now?"

"Kiriko and Jun refuse to do what I say. And I have just about had it with those two. It seems that they both dislike working together, _no matter what_." He forced the last three words out of his mouth, so that everyone in the room would know he is not happy about this whole thing. "So, you either make them work or find me anther model. Because I _refuse_ to waste my time on them." He smiled an overly sweet smile. One, that sent shivers down their spines.

Kiriko, the one with the black hair, still didn't look away from Ryoma, not that the other cared much, and asked: "He's the new guy. From USA right? From 'Aurora's Kiss'." He smirked and glanced at Keigo, "I don't mind working with him. He looks sexy enough and not one of the annoying type, like _this one_ here." he nodded at Jun.

"Hey, no fair!" Jun now flashed the other model with a brown-eyed glare, "He's cute, and I want to work with him too! And I'm not annoying, just not your type, Kiri-chan." He added a quick wink.

Ryoma sighed, "So, that's all that you wanted to talk with me about, right?" he looked at Keigo. Slowly standing up he casted a glance at Fuji, nodding a small greeting and turned to walk away. "I would rather work with the one in the dark blue yukata." Kiriko smirked at Jun, "The other one is too loud."

"Good idea. Can you organize that Atobe? Echizen and Kiriko would look better together than Kiriko and Jun either way." Fuji sighed, throwing the few papers in his hand on Keigo's desk, the pictures that didn't turn out well. "And easier to work with too."

Before answering Fuji, Keigo stood up and asked Ryoma one last question, while the said model still remained in the office. "Do you still remember, Ryoma?" he swallowed, "Three years ago?"

The two models, meaning Kiriko and Jun, looked rather confused and let their eyes wander from one man to the other. Fuji opened his eyes a bit, staring at Ryoma and waiting for the reply. He too, was interested what the younger will answer to this.

"Need I remind you, _Atobe-san_?" Ryoma's voice sounded bored and the annoyance slipped through the words, "This was the first time that we have met." With that he left the room, leaving the next words hanging in the air, "And don't call me Ryoma. I hate it when my name comes out of your mouth."


	5. Kiriko

**Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, no real humans were used to make this story and the characters featured in this piece of work do not belong to me. Also, I do not make any profit from this.**

**Warning: possible grammar and spelling mistakes, as well as missing letters and/or words. **

**There will also be detailed sex scenes and possible violence, as well as bad language and slang words. This is/will be an mpreg (male pregnancy) story, so if this offends you please do not read it and turn back now.**

**Thank you for your understanding.

* * *

**

**Main Pairing: Royal Pair.

* * *

**

**Chapter Five: Kiriko.

* * *

**

"_So, did you get there safely?_" Ryoga's voice cracked through the mobile phone speaker and echoed around the pretty empty room.

Ryoma closed the refrigerator door and placed the glass bottle on the small kitchen table. "Yeah. I slept through most of the flight, so… How's Shuya?" he rummaged through the small cabinets in search of a glass or a cup, both worked.

"_Your brat_?" there was a small pause, "_he's all good. Moping a bit, but that's all. Now he's sleeping though._" It sounded like the television was making noise in the background.

"Hmm… That's good then." Ryoma had managed to find what he was looking for and now he was sipping the apple juice from the orange cup. "Anything else?"

There seemed to be some kind of shuffling on Ryoga's end again. "_Kevin called, said something about that old boss of yours and then something I didn't understand. Said that he'll be going to Japan in the end, I think_." Ryoga coughed. "_Did you meet him?_"

"I did." Ryoma looked out of the window. The slowly darkening sky sure was beautiful tonight.

Ryoga sounded a bit worried. "_And?_"

"What 'and'?" Ryoma laughed a bitter laugh; he never had thought that just one meeting would hurt this much. "It was…. Painful and I just… It hurt, that's all there is to it." His voice almost broke into a whisper, but he held it. He had to be strong and hide this. From everyone.

A sigh reached his ears, "_I thought as much. Remember, there is someone who still needs you here. Hang in there, night._"

"Night Ryoga." The phone became silent and the fast beeps soon filled the speaker.

The model let the little thing lie numbly in his hand, the small sound not ending and filing the empty room as he gazed out of the window and into the sky that was now painted in darker and lighter tones of red, orange and blue. His eyes held a faraway look, as if memories, from log ago, were flashing before his eyes and making him feel the suffocating pang of pain.

Even after all this time, it was still there.

And it hurt so much.

* * *

Two days later Ryoma could be found in one of the numerous photo shooting places of '13'. He was wearing a similar silver yukata to the one that Jun had on before. He had tied his locks in a small ponytail bhind his head, few strand falling on his face, and allowed the yukata to part a little on his chest.

Kiriko was dressed in the same dark blue yukata that he wore two days before. And his hair was let loose and from time to time fell in front of his face when he walked or moved. Turned out, he was just a little bit taller than Ryoma, so they complemented each other very nicely. At least, that was what Fuji had said when he saw the two together.

The make-up artists did a small job on their faces, coloring their eye lines darker, making the grey and gold stand out and powdering their faces to get that pale look, the one that spoke of long journeys and things that cannot be told to others.

"Ok now. Let's do that pose we talked about earlier." The photograph said to the two black-haired models and got ready his camera.

Kiriko scratched his neck, "Which one? We talked about a lot of them." He glanced at Ryoma for a moment, but then his eyes wandered back to Fuji, who was still in the process of checking his camera.

"The two of you pressing your backs together and smirking towards the camera pose. That one please." Fuji turned to look at them, camera all ready for work and face serious, professional.

"Haai." Kiriko lazily answered and got into the position, Ryoma following after him.

They stood facing away from each other and backs pressed together. Kiriko's right arm sneaked around Ryoma's left one, the fingers winding around the seemingly frail wrist and bringing the said hand up. Ryoma merely raised an eyebrow and looked strangely amused when Kiriko pressed his lips on the upper part of his palm.

The camera never stopped clicking, Fuji smirking behind it. This is what he loved about Kiriko and Ryoma. They both knew how to improvise and turn the whole thing in their own peace; doing what they wanted and making it look good. "Good." He smirked, "Ryoma, show something in return for me now." Fuji watched in delight as those golden eyes glinted in mischief.

The said model seemed to think for a while and then a devilish smirk crawled on his angelic face. He faced Kiriko, eyes twinkling in amusement and mischief, and wrapped his hands around the others neck. He made the Japanese model hold his whole weight and leaned close to the other's right ear, eyes shifting to look at Fuji, and whispered something in Kiriko's ear.

Shivers ran down the Japanese model's spine.

Fuji managed to catch the surprised expression on Kiriko's face before it once again was twisted into the one he usually used when modeling. A serious and yet playful, a combination only Kiriko could come up with and show.

"Were done for this one, you two." Fuji looked at them for a split second and went to see, if he could get the pictures to show on the big screen for a better view. "You can change and get ready for the next shoot. The black ones are for that and they go together with the white scarves." Fuji waved at the dressing room where the stylists were already getting ready for a new make-up session.

"So now we have to wear the black ones?" Ryoma went through the clothes hung for them. "Isn't this for a girl?" he muttered to himself after finding the one with his name on it.

Kiriko peeked over his shoulder. "I think that the name just got stuck there from a different piece. See?" he pulled out a grey bag and opened it up, "This one has no name on it. Maybe it's yours?" he hung it over Ryoma's shoulder and went to change, his hips swinging as he walked.

"Interesting guy." Ryoma shook his head and, after placing the dress thing back on the rack, headed to the changing rooms too. He managed to spot Fuji, talking on the phone with someone, that real smile playing on the corners of his lips. "I wonder, who made Fuji-san so happy. Definitely not that man, that's for sure." He averted his eyes and disappeared behind the white changing room door.

"You both ready?" Fuji looked over his shoulder at the two men in black suits, no shirts under the jackets and the white scarves wrapped loosely around their necks. "Echizen, sit on that sofa." He nodded with his head on the white piece of furniture in the middle of the white room. Surely, moved there while the two of them were changing.

"Isn't this a bit rushed? From Japanese style to western?" Ryoma asked, but sat down in his place anyway, the bored expression on his face. Somewhat perfect for this shoot.

There was a small pause before Fuji said anything. "Yes well… That's for our director and boss to decide. Blame that stupid man for this." He sighed and showed Kiriko his place. "Act high society like. Yes Echizen, just like that."

"I wasn't even trying." Ryoma sighed and looked at the camera with cold eyes. The image that was brought up by the mention of high class only brought a pang of hurt and pain to him. But this wasn't the place to show it; not here, not anywhere else.

Kiriko's arm rested on Ryoma's shoulders and he leaned down to whisper to the model in his ear: "Keep your face straight. Just now, for a split second, there was this strange expression on your face." he watched as those golden orbs turn to look into his grey ones, "Do you hate the high-class people perhaps?"

"Hate is a mild way of putting it." Ryoma whispered back and leaned against the sofa and brought his right hand up to slide his own pair of slender fingers through his hair, lifting his chin up a bit and looking at the camera from over his nose. Just like a certain someone used to do a long time ago.

"Good." Fuji said, "That arrogance is exactly what I want." The camera once again clicked non-stop.

* * *

It was quite cold when both Kiriko and Ryoma came out of the building that they used for the photo shoot. The cold fall evenings were the worst. The later it got the colder it was, even their breath colored white when meeting with the chilly air.

"Going home?" Kiriko asked the man besides him and started to walk deeper into to the neon lights and the booming music.

Ryoma shivered a bit and pulled the light jacked tighter around himself. "As if I have anywhere else to go. Besides," he yawned, "I have another shoot tomorrow."

Kiriko eyed Ryoma from the corner of his eye, "Singles or doubles?" the interest in his voice was a fake one; it was easy to tell and he didn't try to hide it.

"Singles." Was the single word that came past Ryoma's lips as he shivered again. He was never good with the cold, not even the usual coldness of summer nights. So much for being born in winter.

There was a pause of silence between them. Kiriko took off his scarf and stepped in front of Ryoma, blocking his path. The latter looked up a bit, confusion shining in his eyes, but not showing on the face. The amused smile that tugged on Kiriko's lips was enough to make Ryoma shake his head too.

"What now?" the shorter of the two asked, the white puffs of his breath tickled Kiriko's face. Just so close they were standing.

In swift movements the Japanese model tied his scarf around Ryoma's neck and laughed a bit, his own puffs of white clouding Ryoma's sight for a little while. "Just taking care of my fellow model. Can't?" those grey eyes sparkling in mirth, reminding Ryoma of a certain middle school sempai of his.

"No, it's fine." He chuckled, tightening the given scarf a bit, "It's up to you to do what you want. And answer about the consequences." He flashed his companion a grin, something that still lingered from when he was still young and could play tennis.

Kiriko watched as the model walked past him and thought it over a bit. "Are there?"

"Hmm?" Ryoma didn't turn around.

"Are there really consequences? Or are you just making that up?" he ran to catch up. The wind tossed his black locks around and tickled his nose and cheeks with its cold breath.

He didn't see Ryoma's face, but the sudden change in his voice, though, he couldn't tell why and exactly what had changed, could be heard quite well. "I wonder…"

Kiriko opened his mouth to ask something to the other, but his eyes caught a sight of his boss, Atobe Keigo, looking in their direction, half of his body already in the car. It seemed that he had gotten out of work a little earlier than the usual time.

He then looked at Ryoma, who either didn't notice or ignored the man, and then back, at his boss. Whatever had happened between them, it was something big. He wanted to know, kind of, but then again, meddling into others life was not his idea of a hobby. Though, he could try and get a reaction out of the two, or at least one, to see what exactly was between them.

He ran up to Ryoma again and slipped his right hand around Ryoma's left, the other merely looking at him with wide eyes, this time, even his face was showing surprise. "Aren't we going a bit fast here?"

So it seemed that Ryoma had nothing against gay people; he probably even was one, Kiriko thought and pulled Ryoma a bit closer, so that they looked like a couple. "It's just for something I want to check. I do this with everyone, don't worry." He lied, but it's not like the other would be able to tell.

"Liar." Ryoma's soft voice fluttered to his ears thought the wind. "This is for your own personal fun, isn't it?" he sounded bored and almost apathetic now.

An amused smile crawled on Kiriko's face. "You could tell? That's a first for me you know." He laughed a bit as they both turned at a corner and left the '13's building behind them.

"I can tell lies now pretty easily, since I got hurt once already." The bitterness in Ryoma's voice was so clear, the owner not trying to hide it at all. "Life can be cruel, but you probably know that too, don't you?"

Kiriko became bitter himself, though the feeling of someone who understands is next to him made it easier. "So you saw them? Heh, do you want to hear the story behind them too?" he tried to sound somewhat normal.

"When you are ready." Ryoma patted his shoulder and got out of his hold. "Good night for now, Kiriko." He nodded with his head a bit and turned around to walk in one of the apartment buildings.

Kiriko only shook his head and went his own way. The night was still young.

* * *

**A/N: Is it just me, or are the chapters getting shorter, bit by bit? Strange…**

**But, it's not like I **_**can't**_** make them longer, I just **_**don't feel the need**_** to do it, since then it will just be too much everything. **

**Either way, thanks for sticking with this and I hope that it's not getting boring with this entire 'no-actual-action' mode. Sorry about that… -.-**


	6. You Never Know

**Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, no real humans were used to make this story and the characters featured in this piece of work do not belong to me. Also, I do not make any profit from this.**

**Warning: possible grammar and spelling mistakes, as well as missing letters and/or words. **

**There will also be detailed sex scenes and possible violence, as well as bad language and slang words. This is/will be an mpreg (male pregnancy) story, so if this offends you please do not read it and turn back now.**

**Thank you for your understanding.**

**!DON'T DRINK WHILE UNDERAGE. Actually, DON'T DRINK AT ALL!

* * *

**

**Chapter Six: You Never Know.

* * *

**

Keigo knew this wasn't right. Hell, even a five year old would have told him that this was wrong and bad, a lesson left from what his mother or father had told the child not too long ago, probably. And yet, yet, he was sitting here in this worn-out bar and staring at his glass of some kind of nameless alcohol, a drink he ordered not even looking.

Yes, he missed Ryoma; yes, he was the one that messed up their relationship; yes, he was a goddamn bastard, but… The sight of some other man talking and touching his ex made him tremble in anger. Anger, that was so hard to control, that flowed through his whole body, blinding him with rage and want to tear the two apart from each other.

"Fuck." It was a low growl that left his mouth and he drowned the drink right after, twisting his face in clear disgust. This is why he never got drunk; the pointlessness of it all was disgusting.

Someone sat beside him. Keigo didn't really care, he didn't know anyone that liked to visit places like this one (and yet, he was here himself), so he just ordered a refill of whatever he had before. The bitter taste still lingered in his mouth, his throat burning from the aftertaste.

"Never thought I would see _you_ here of all people. Atobe." The same one that had sat besides Keigo laughed a teasing laugh and drank his ordered gin and tonic. "Stress?"

Keigo glanced at his right; figures. "Oshitari." He acknowledged and swirled his drink. "What I do and where I do that is none of your problem." He debated with himself whether to drink or not. Maybe a bit later. "And I thought the same about you."

"Oh, Atobe. I'm not you and you are not me. The whole world is free for me, but for you… Limited choices, I would say." Oshitari pushed up the fake glasses he was still wearing, even at his age. "But I do like to come here at some point. It's relaxing."

"Relaxing?" Keigo straightened up on his bar stool, "I fail to see how this place is relaxing. Sorry about that." He glanced down at his glass again.

Oshitari chuckled his usual laugh, "How mean." He then pushed his empty glass around the surface of the table. "But you know, you really must be feeling down, if you ended up here, of all places." He looks at Keigo wryly. "Let me guess, Echizen?"

"It never ceases to amaze me how much you know, you know that?" Keigo glared, finally drowning his second, or maybe fourth, glass and slamming it down, back on the bar table. "It's just me being too optimistic and naïve. Nothing else."

"Atobe, for the whole time that I have known you, I can assure you that you are in no way naive. A bit of an idiot and an ass, sure, but certainly not naïve, far from it actually, if I may say so. Just because Echizen hates your guts…" Oshitari suddenly got silent, as if thinking over something. "Well, the thing is… You should have seen this."

Keigo snorts. "Yeah, thanks for that. But he really does hate me, doesn't he." It wasn't a question. More like a statement of truth. "But he's happily sleeping with whoever he wants to while I'm trying to get drunk for once." He forces a laugh out and considers ordering another glass of whatever he had been drinking until now.

"Is he?" Oshitari has the modesty to sound pleasantly surprised.

Keigo decides to order another glass, to hell with work and worries. "Kiriko would be a potential partner for one, and who knows what he has been doing until now in U.S. He is quite good-looking for a man."

"And has a nice backside, don't forget that." Oshitari ads and does a mock salute to Keigo before taking a small sip of his new re-fill. He got a glare in return. "Just saying."

"Shut it." Keigo mumbled and sighed right after that. "What the hell am I to do? I mean, I fucking _need_ that man." He hisses out as if that is some curse. But really, it's not and both of them know it. "Damn."

"Well said." Oshitari pats Keigo on the back, empties his own gin and tonic and gets up to leave. "You should remember that when talking to Echizen next time. And while we are talking about Echizen again, though we were from the start, he isn't the type to whore himself out, you are. We both know that, Atobe." He gives the rich man one last smirk of his own and walks out of the smoke filled bar.

Keigo stares at the door even after Oshitari is long gone. "Damn asshole, thinks he knows everything because... This is stupid." He makes a face, drinks the glass dry once again, slams down a sum of money on the table next to the glass and leaves too.

He didn't need a hangover added to his problems.

* * *

Ryoma isn't surprised to find out that the photographer for his today's shoot was some man he had never heard of (not to mention that he was bad at what he was dong, obviously). Though, what surprised him was the presence of another model, even if he was told that he would be the only one today.

"Ah, Echizen. You must be quite surprised, no?" the man in front of him tilted his head on the left a bit and did a strange Fuji-smile imitation.

Ryoma blinked and sat on the chair, facing the mirror in front of him. "Depends."

"You're still as talkative as you were I see." Yukimura laughed, not at all fazed by the sudden meeting.

"I wonder." Ryoma relaxed in his chair and allowed the make-up artists to do their job. "So why are you here anyway? I thought this was a singles shoot." He yawned and then glanced at Yukimura.

There was a chuckle and then Yukimura spoke: "it is, we just have the same location. Syuu didn't want anyone else taking photos of me. I bet you know how that is." He smiled a mysterious smile and accepted the glass of water given to him.

"I wonder." Ryoma eyed the model next to him, waiting for something more that that, but then averted his eyes away from the man and looked at his own reflection.

It was awkward to sit together now, one not really wanting to talk and the other not knowing how to answer. Only the make-up artists that worked on them made some small talks between themselves, asking about the best shades and eyeliners and powders and whatever else they needed at that moment. Only the two models quietly sat in front of the big mirror and refused to look away from their own faces.

The dressing room door opened and Yukimura turned his head to look at the intruder. But when his eyes met with the photographer that was also his boyfriend, a smile so loving bloomed on his face that Ryoma had to turn his head away from the mirror, he had long ago given up on these loving smiles, meant for your lover.

Fuji smiled too and leaned down for a small kiss on the lips. "Ready?" he asked his lover.

"Un." Yukimura nodded and got up, "It was nice talking to you Echizen. Good luck on your shoot." He changed his smile to a friendly one.

Ryoma turned his eyes on the two lover birds again, mentally frowning, and gave a small nod in return. "Thank you, you too Yukimura-san. Hello Fuji." He didn't get up.

"Hello Echizen." Fuji's hand wrapped around Yukimura's waist and pulled him a bit closer than necessary, "I looked over the pictures yesterday evening. I wonder why they didn't give you as their first choice, Hughes was good, but nothing compared to what you can show on the pictures." There was some weird undertone to Fuji's voice.

Ryoma crossed his legs, "I was at a job when they came to look over our models. That's the reason why I wasn't included in the list from the beginning." He messed up his hair a little and got up too. "I guess I have to go too. I still haven't seen the clothes." He didn't bid them farewell and just left.

"He's grown cold and no longer trusts people, it seems." Yukimura whispered and led Fuji out of the dressing room. "I liked the old Echizen better. The snarky brat that couldn't be brought down no matter what. That is what I wanted to see, not the emptiness in his eyes." He threw his lover a look that couldn't be deciphered.

"He's hurting." Fuji answered back, "He is still so very hurt, it is painful to watch." He stopped at the small table where his camera was lying quietly.

Yukimura allowed their hands to release each other. "I see something else, something that is not hurt. But, that is not for me to judge." He took his pose, one leg on the old-looking chair, arm resting on it and used as a support for his weight.

"We see what we want to see. Like that, ne?" Fuji made sure his camera is in order and placed it in front of his eyes. "His eyes reflect what we wish to see. Because they are empty."

"If you say so." Yukimura did a fake smile for the sake of the photo.

* * *

Keigo leaned against the cool stone wall of the building that they used for some of their shoots. The sky was a depressing grey color now, small drops of water falling down on the ground now and then, yet it still couldn't be called rain.

He watched the people walking by, all dressed in dark tones and ignoring the world around them. Yet, his eyes didn't see anything, because the things happening around him were meaningless for the rich man. He only needed, wanted, to meet Ryoma, the model that was working in the building behind his back at this very moment.

Keigo lost track of time, so when there was the murmur of people talking coming from the building, accompanied by the clicking of lock and laughs, he felt as if just awoken from some kind of dream, a state of daydream.

Keigo watched the people exiting, in hopes of spotting the man he so wanted to see right now. Women, men, make-up artists, stylists, crew workers continued to leave the building one after another, but the model was still nowhere to be seen for Keigo's eyes. But then, the mop of black, with the undertone of dark green, hair went past Keigo, everything turning into a blur that very moment. In pure instinct did Keigo reach out and grab the hand of the owner of that unique hair color.

It was as if time had stopped, for both of them, when those honey-colored eyes slowly turned to glare at whoever was halting him in his way. They widened for a split second, before turning icy cold when Keigo's reflection could be seen in that endless gold.

"What do you want?" the words were sharp, cold and spoke of irritation and anger.

Keigo wanted to cringe, but didn't. Right now there were more important things to do and say. "I want to talk to you, now."

* * *

Ryoga was washing the dishes after their dinner. He was humming some unnamed song to himself, all other worries pushed out of his head for the time being. His right foot was hitting a beat for the same song, quiet _tap, tap, tap_ sounds filling the small kitchen, if it could be called like that.

From time to time he glanced over his shoulder at the little boy, obediently playing with his toys, and then back at the dishes, still dirty and soaking in the warm, soapy water that was filling the sink. Ryoma once again began to hum the same song, the clinking of dishes joining in.

"Ne, uncle Ryoga." The small voice asked. "Can I ask you about daddy?" Shuya turned around, so that he was now facing Ryoga's back. A toy robot held between his little fingers.

"Hmm?" Ryoga hummed, but his hands didn't stop moving.

Shuya hesitated a bit, raising his toy robot up, above his head and then asked: "Daddy won't follow mommy, right? Daddy will be ok, right?" he blinked once, twice and then lowered the toy.

"Of course he will be ok, isn't he strong. You said that yourself, stupid brat." Ryoga laughed and placed the last plate to dry. He dried his hands and then turned fully to face the little boy. "And your mommy is too blind to see what your dad is worth. _She _is nothing to be worried about. Ok, brat?" he ruffled the light purple hair on Shuya's head while walking past him.

The boy said nothing, his head hung low and eyes downcast, the toy robot still in his hands. Ryoga sighed, "It's only been five days kid, five days. No work has been this short for him, right? You took it better before."

"But… daddy was never somewhere where I can't…" Shuya made the robot's arms move, "Daddy was never this far." He whispered out the last words and left his toy on the ground. "I miss daddy."

"Ryoma only has you brat. Where else will he come back to, if it's not by your side? Huh?" he looked at the three-year-old, skeptical about the whole thing. Ryoga doubted the kid would understand; he was far too young for these kinds of talks. Even if he was Ryoma's son.

He noticed the kid swaying. "Hey, you sleepy? Go to bed if you are." Ryoga drank form his can of beer. "You hear me?" he got out of the chair he has been occupying for the last three minutes, or so, and went to Shuya.

"You ok?" he checked the kid's forehead with his hand. Those honey colored eyes, all foggy and half lidded, looked up at him when Ryoga's cool hand came in contact with Shuya's forehead.

"You're a bit too warm." Ryoga muttered and picked Shuya up, walking towards the small kitchen again, in search of a thermometer, "I hope you're not sick. The last time you had to spend some time in the hospital. Ryoma will be worried sick if that will happen again."

* * *

**A/N: I feel so damn proud. There was some action that happened, the chapter is long and some cliffhangers were added to the whole thing. Could it get any better? Yeas it can. You telling me what you think about this whole thing.

* * *

**

**10.03.2011.**


	7. And Yet, The Rain Still Pours

**Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, no real humans were used to make this story and the characters featured in this piece of work do not belong to me. Also, I do not make any profit from this.**

**Warning: possible grammar and spelling mistakes, as well as missing letters and/or words. **

**There will also be detailed sex scenes and possible violence, as well as bad language and slang words. This is/will be an mpreg (male pregnancy) story, so if this offends you please do not read it and turn back now.**

**Thank you for your understanding.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven: And Yet, The Rain Still Pours.**

* * *

"Come on brat, you can't be getting sick now." Ryoga worriedly said to himself, since the three year old in his arms probably didn't hear him anymore.

The little boy had fallen asleep at some point when his temperature was being measured. The little coughs that Shuya now had didn't calm the eldest of the two Echizen sons down; it just increased his uneasiness and fear that the little kid was sick.

Since Shuya wasn't exactly the healthiest kid around the chance that a simple cold could turn into something serious was so big that Ryoma usually lived as if needles were under his feet. The simplest things might be dangerous for his little boy and he was to be blamed for it.

Because Ryoma, originally male, had carried and given birth to Shuya.

The doctor that had taken charge of Ryoma, a nice man that didn't judge and spread the information about such a rarity around the news and whatnot, had told the youngest Echizen about the dangers that could await his child in the future, the possible things that he might not have, unlike other children, simply because the one giving birth to him was not meant to do that originally. The risk factors and all the possible diseases that Shuya might have been born with didn't come true. But still, his immune system was not as strong as that of a child that has been carried by a woman.

And yet, Ryoma didn't care and still fought his way through nine months of difficulties, visits to the doctor, the shunning and freaked out stares of those around him and the endless fear about the wellbeing on his child. And he still continues to fight.

"Damn." Ryoga cursed after seeing the red numbers on the thermometer that showed Shuya's body temperature (its increase to be more exact). He pushed the little boy a bit higher up in his arms, so that the child's head was lying on his shoulder now and grabbed his cell phone and car keys from the small table next to the doors of his apartment.

The keys clinked as he locked the door, his feet still trying to get comfortable into the old sneakers that he had negligently slipped on as he tried to get out of the door. More silent curses resonated in the empty staircase.

The moment that the lock clicked two times in a row did Ryoga slide the keys in the pocket of his ripped jeans and made his way down the stairs, trying to close his jacket at the same time. The bundle in his arms didn't help in the process, Shuya's jacket getting in the way too, so he eventually gave up on closing it altogether. The air was cold, even if they still were inside the old apartment complex, so Ryoga kind of guessed that it will be even colder outside, his fingers were already fumbling over Shuya's hat just in case.

"Shitty cold, shitty sicknesses. Now is really not the right time for this brat. Your daddy has to finally end his own affairs `ya know. Shit." Ryoga hissed when the heavy metal door bumped against his back, but he didn't stop and let the pain become more aware. "I hate cold."

He got to his car, though, the cold water and mud from the puddles splashing around him as he ran through them dirtied his pants and shoes, and strapped Shuya to the baby safety chair. After making sure that his brother's kid is safely secured to the chair Ryoga got in the driver's seat and turned on the engine.

He took a look at the mirror that reflected the back seat and frowned. "You better get things done on your end lil` bro."

* * *

By the time that they got to the small café the sky had turned from a depressing grey color to a strange mix of grey and black, the raindrops now falling down from the clouded sky in numbers that couldn't be counted and soaked everything that they touched, from people to buildings and cars and streets.

Keigo led the two of them to a secluded area where no one would pay attention to their talk nor notice exactly who they were. Besides, the few of the customers that were present didn't look like they cared much about what was going on around them. Their own little worlds seemed to be more interesting than the reality that they lived in.

"Would you like to order something sirs?" The waitress, a dark-haired girl with glasses and a kind smile on her freckled face, asked. She was holding a small notebook in one hand and a pen in the other, ready to write down their orders. "Maybe you would like today's special?"

Keigo took one look at the menu in front of him and sighed, "Just coffee. A black one." He was used to different kind of meals, not the usual, commoner ones.

"And for you sir?" the girl turned her big, black eyes on Ryoma, who hadn't even opened his menu.

"Green tea." He crossed his arms in front of him and then added, "And Caesar salad."

She smiled and bowed a little, the black bangs falling in front of her face as she did so. "Thank you for your order, it will be here shortly." After straightening up she ripped off the small piece of paper from her notebook and swiftly walked in the direction of the kitchen.

The two men stayed silent, unable to start a conversation now that they were alone. Things were still awkward between them and the scars still hurt even after all this time.

"Echizen, I know that you probably don't want to talk to me and-" Keigo started, knowing that Ryoma probably won't say a word any other way.

"But you still made me." The model didn't let Keigo finish. "Why did I even came with you? This will probably be a waste of time anyway." He sneered and turned his face away from his formed lover.

Even if Keigo was ready for this kind of attitude from Ryoma he still twisted his face in a slightly pained expression. "I want to apologize to you. For everything."

"It's a bit too late for that, don't you think?" Ryoma threw back, his eyes still looking at the couple in the other corner of the room. The pair was holing each other's hands and sending those silent 'I love you-s' and 'I love you two-s' to each other.

"I know, I know. But at that time I… I was too…" Keigo tried to find the right words to say, but none came to him. "I was lost and didn't realize that what I was doing could, no, would be noticed and that you…" he once again stopped, unable to continue.

Ryoma made a quiet laughing sound that spoke of sarcasm and when he finally looked away from the seemingly happy couple his golden eyes burned with hate towards the man sitting across the table from him. "You were no better than a cheap whore, though, I bet you were, and still are, lower than even that. Just because of that accident you-"

"Here are your orders sirs." The same glasses wearing waitress interrupted the two with her quiet voice. She was still wearing the kind business smile as she placed the cups of coffee and tea and salad on their table and bowed before leaving.

Ryoma took a sip of his tea and then pulled the bowl of salad closer. "Either way, I don't want you, or need you, so leave me alone." He picked up the fork and started to lazily poke the salad leaves with it.

"It wasn't because of _that_. It wasn't." Keigo said and raised the steaming cup of coffee to his lips. He let it hover like that, in the air, as if thinking something over. "In the least, that wasn't the only reason." He finally said and drank the black liquid.

The model was still poking his salad with the fork, when he made a face of disgust. "You want to tell me that it wasn't _just_ because of the fact that I will never again play tennis in my life? Then tell me," he stabbed the fork through some of the salad leaved and raised it, "what else was there? Sex?"

"Also." Keigo had decided that he won't lie to Ryoma, not anymore. If he wanted to maybe one day earn his trust again he needed to be truthful to his former lover. No lies. "It was because at that time you lost your worth in my eyes, the reason why I dated you in the first place and… And then everything fell apart."

Ryoma chewed and swallowed, his eyes frozen on the salad. "So the only thing that had some worth in me was tennis. Tennis and how good I was in the bed, huh. That's just… disgusting." He whispered the last part out and tried to hold back the hollow laughs that threatened to escape from deep inside of him. "So I was just about tennis and sex."

"No. It wasn't like that. At first… At first, when we just started to date." Keigo swallowed, "I didn't know any better. Everything happened so fast and together at that time, so I just.. Stopped thinking about you and me. And the consequences of things."

"And slept with every single living thing in the whole Japan?" Ryoma didn't try to hide the hate and disgust that he felt. "I'm starting be kind of glad that I dumped you. Well, you would have left me after finding out about that thing anyway." His lips twitched.

_Great_, Ryoma thought to himself with some sort of amusement, _I almost told him about Shuya. What the hell do I want to get by telling that bastard about my… his son… I'm just pathetic. _He sipped some of his tea and tried not to look at the man sitting on the other side of the table.

Keigo frowned. "What?"

The model finally looked at Keigo again; a shadow of the smirk he once owned was playing on the corners of his lips. "Like I will tell you now."

Uncomfortable silence once again settled between them, like a wall that kept everything out of your reach and denied what you wanted the most. They sat like that, both of them thinking about different things that somehow led to the same problem.

"Look, Echizen. I know that what I did and what happened was plain wrong and I will not try to talk my way out of the guilt or justify my actions but..." Keigo said after that tense moment of silence, accepting the fact that Ryoma will most probably refuse to talk about himself more. "I need you. After this time I understood that I_ need_ you so much. It's almost suffocating."

Ryoma made a face, trying hard to tell himself that everything that came out of Keigo's mouth was nothing but a lie. He still held some feeling towards the rich man in front of him; Ryoma won't deny that, but… he didn't want to be hurt again. He didn't want to cry again.

"I…." he got quiet again; his hands that were now resting in his lap clutched the jeans he was wearing, "…hate you. I really do hate you."

The salad and both cups of the semi-warm liquids lay forgotten on the table between the two. The only two things that filled the silence were the quiet, old love songs that came from the old-looking speakers in the corners of the café and the heavy raindrops that were beating against the large windows.

* * *

**A/N: This will be all for this chapter. And crappy title is crappy.**

**I will be needing a bit of your help though. What do you think, what kind of leg injury would make it impossible to play tennis? Forever. I'm a bad author and haven't thought that one thing out yet + my medical knowledge stops at being able to tell the difference between a cold and when a finger is cut. **

**Thank you beforehand. :) **


	8. Baby Steps

**vDisclaimer: This is a work of fiction, no real humans were used to make this story and the characters featured in this piece of work do not belong to me. Also, I do not make any profit from this.**

**Warning: possible grammar and spelling mistakes, as well as missing letters and/or words. **

**There will also be detailed sex scenes and possible violence, as well as bad language and slang words. This is/will be an mpreg (male pregnancy) story, so if this offends you please do not read it and turn back now.**

**Thank you for your understanding.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Baby Steps.**

* * *

"Ryoma, wait!" Keigo called out to his model, throwing some paper bills on the table between the unfinished salad and drinks.

The model had suddenly gotten up from his seat and walked away from his ex, leaving behind no explanation why he acted like that. Though, Keigo could guess it was his fault. The things that he said, his explanation, everything, just added to Ryoma's pain and hurt. No wonder the man hated him; Keigo couldn't blame anyone else but him for this.

He rushed outside. Through the rain Keigo managed to spot Ryoma's retreating figure, walking away and probably already half-way to being drenched to the bone. From the tensed up shoulders, to the speed that Ryoma was using - it all showed Keigo just how much the model wanted to get away from him.

Keigo gritted his teeth and after a quick look up, ran into the rain, following Ryoma's path of retreat and trying to catch up with his used-to-be lover. "Ryoma, wait. I really am sorry, but just wait and think about yourself this time."

"Think about myself?" Ryoma muttered after suddenly stopping, thus allowing Keigo to catch up and grab him by his left arm. "Think about myself… Are you mocking me?" the anger, hurt and pain, now so clear and vivid in Ryoma's voice, no longer hidden so deep inside.

"ALL THIS TIME…! All this time…" Ryoma started off as a yell, but then quieted down to a weak whisper, "All I have been thinking about is myself and Shuya and you… YOU! YOU JUST SUDDENLY… show up and start to…" the man was suddenly lost in his own words, so utterly lost and confused. His breath was ragged, eyes unfocused and boring into the wet concrete beneath their feet.

Keigo stayed silent, this was not the right place to make more hurtful comments. That much he knew. He merely refused to let Ryoma go. "Ryoma…"

"Let go." It was quiet at first, the rainfall even managed to muffle the sound, "I said, let go!" the high pitch of Ryoma's voice told that he wasn't far from raising his voice again.

The rich man that was holding Ryoma's hand so tightly couldn't force himself to let go. Who knew what the model will do now, where he will go and when he will get home. In this weather his conscience told him to ignore the model's wishes. Even if he will be hated even more after.

"I SAID LET GO OF ME ATOBE!" the sudden, high-pitched yell that came out of Ryoma's mouth surprised even the few people that were out in the streets and walking past the two. The model was breathing heavily now and had his head bent down, the wet, black strands of hair stuck to his face.

He looked pathetic.

"I won't." Keigo said after a moment, his voice barely managing to be louder than the pounding of the rain. "I will not make the same mistake for a second time. Even if you will just hate me more because of my actions right now."

Ryoma started to tremble and fell on his knees. Only his left hand hung helplessly in the air because of Keigo's hold. "What do you want from me?" Ryoma managed to ask in a shaky voice, his face now hidden from Keigo's eyes, "What the hell do you want from me?"

"I don't know myself. A second chance maybe?" a bitter laugh escaped past Keigo's lips after those words. When Ryoma didn't answer him the rich man sighed and pulled the soaked model up from the ground. "For now, I just don't want to leave you like this."

"I hate you." Ryoma whispered back, not caring what was happening anymore, "I really, really hate you." He didn't say anything after that, just allowed his employer to pull him up. Ryoma no longer had the energy to fight; he was just tired of it all.

Keigo smiled a bitter smile. "I know."

What happened next was a mistake. It was a mistake. But after just a glance at those suddenly so hollow and dull golden colored orbs and the way they raised to look up at him, the way the pitch black locks of hair stuck to that frighteningly pale face, the way that those lips stood put on the wet skin… It was all so frighteningly enchanting to Keigo.

So he just acted without thinking about it first.

Keigo moved down, his free hand going up to cup Ryoma's chin and lift it up a bit, just like he used to when they were still happy and still together, and leaned down to the beauty in his arms to plant a soft, experimental kiss on his lips.

The shock that flooded in the eyes of the model was like a reminder of reality. The way that Ryoma froze still and then, as realization dawned upon him and the feeling of those cold lips against his own cold ones finally sunk in, he pushed his hands against Keigo's chest, clutching the wet fabric of that expensive jacket, and tried to push his ex away.

But Keigo didn't budge. He merely pulled Ryoma closer to himself, the model being far too weak against Keigo's strength, and changed his kiss from a simple touch to the lips, to a deeper and a bit more sensual kiss. He could feel Ryoma's weak struggles and the way that his body trembled, whether from the desperate tries to get away or like, he couldn't tell.

It was all that he had wanted. The unforgettable taste of Ryoma's lips, his skin and the familiar feeling of the man's body in his arms, it was as if those years had never happened. It was like they had never been apart. This feeling was all that he had craved.

When he pulled away and let go of Ryoma there was a loud slap, even the cold rain didn't hide the terrible sound of flesh gazing against flesh. They both froze after that. Ryoma panting hard with his left hand in the air, while Keigo stared at the model, his eyes wide and right hand slowly going up to his bruised cheek.

"_Die._" Ryoma finally managed to get out. He glared at Keigo, those golden eyes dancing with wild and uncontrollable fire, and then turned around and walked away.

The chilly autumn wind and rain combined securely covered the view of Ryoma's retreating figure from Keigo's eyes as soon as he was a few meters away. Keigo could only stand and watch, the bruise on his cheek reminding him of the bitter pain that was still so vividly clear in Ryoma's heart. As well as his own.

"Fuck." He cursed and barely kept himself from sinking on the ground.

* * *

He didn't know when he had finally gotten home. He just knew he was freezing and wet and hurt and confused and… In turmoil of emotions that he thought he wouldn't be able to feel, or more precisely, won't be feeling for a long time still. Because he had promised himself to never let that man take control of his life again.

"Shit." Ryoma whispered in a low voice, the word eerily bouncing off the walls of the chilly stair space of his apartment building. "Shit…"

His fist connected with the wall and it took all of his strength to not to slump on the staircase right there and right now. It was all Keigo's fault and he would have never had to feel like this again, if only he had refused to go with the man. He had been a complete idiot to think that talking to Keigo about the 'good old times' would end normally.

"Damn him." Ryoma muttered again and took deep breaths to calm down. His body was shaking from the cold and his wet state didn't make it any better.

The model slowly walked up the stairs, trying to fish his keys out of the wet pocket of his jeans. Thank god he had forgotten his wallet and phone at home on the morning, otherwise he could have might as well say goodbye to his money and contacts. And without those, it would be hard to get by. Knowing that getting back the most important names in his contact list would be near impossible later on.

When Ryoma finally got to his apartment's door he had started to get a bit dizzy. He had a hard time to actually get the door to open and when it did, he simply stumbled inside, the things around him turning into a blur of colors and shades. Right now, he didn't care about the door that had been left open, or about the angry neighbors he will have to face tomorrow, or about the presence of foreign cologne's smell in his apartment.

Right now, he just wanted to sleep and forget.

* * *

"..Ma… ake.. p… Ry…m… Ryoma! Wake up!" someone shook him hard, but the seemingly fragile webs of sleep didn't let up. The shaking got harder and the voice clearer though. "Wake up, damn it!"

The voice sounded strangely familiar, but in Ryoma's state of mind he still couldn't quite figure out why. His head hurt, from what he could make out between the sleepiness and the slight ringing noise in his ears, and he was still cold and probably wet too.

"Oh screw this." The still unknown person said in English, Ryoma finally got around that detail. Then he felt himself being lifted from the ground and taken, or more like pulled, deeper into the apartment.

Slowly he opened his eyes, after deciding that it would not be good to stay like he was and sleep, and whined when the artificially created, bright yellow light stung his eyes. The pain on the back of his head also got a bit clearer and the world around him became less likeable.

"Decided to finally get up, huh? Took you long enough, damn bastard." The English speaking person, whose identity Ryoma still couldn't quite pin-point, muttered and threw the soaked model on the couch. "Maybe it's a good thing I just happened to get here today, huh? I will be waiting for 'thank you' gifts from you, princess." There was a good natured laugh at the end.

Ryoma groaned and sat up, the owner of that annoyingly loud voice now clear and glared at the blonde man he called his best friend. "Not a princess."

Kevin only smirked an left the room, probably to get a clean and dry towel for Ryoma, who, in the mean time, got up and wobbled his way to the small table in the corner of the room, where the pills and bandages and all that stuff was kept. A bit of Tylenol for his head and some Theraflu for his possible cold.

"It's not a good idea to drink all that stuff at the same time, ya` know." Kevin drawled out from behind him and threw the towel on Ryoma's head, "Dry off and change first, after that you should check your phone. It's been making noise ever since I got here."

"Thanks." Ryoma gave his friend of his half-smiles and disappeared in his bedroom. The model was thankful to his blond friend for not trying to find out what was going on with him right now, Kevin knew that Ryoma would tell if he wanted to and it is no use to try and force the explanation out of him.

And it wasn't like this was a first time that something like this has happened.

Ryoma did everything slowly - from drying himself off, to getting into dry and warm clothes. Then he reached out for his phone, ignoring the numerous unanswered calls and messages that flashed on the screen. Just when he was about to call back to whoever had called him last, his phone flashed again, and the familiar tune he had set for Ryoga filled the room.

He picked up, "Yes?"

"_Thank god you finally picked up. I was trying to get a hold of you for the whole morning._" Ryoga's voice came from the speaker. He sounded strangely tired and worried - something that didn't happen often. "_Can you talk now?_"

Ryoma sat on his bed, not knowing what else to do, since Ryoga's way of speaking made him worry. "Yeah. What's wrong? You sound… strange…" he coughed after saying that.

"_Like you sound any better. It's just that… Shuya got sick all of a sudden,; we're at the hospital right now, so don't worry. I just wanted to let you know._" Ryoga sighed, the chatter of a hospital now clear in the background.

Ryoma's eyes went wide and he bit back the endless questions and worries that had now taken the place of the bitter memories of Keigo in his mind. He sighed a shaky sigh and covered his face with his right hand's palm, the hand placed on his knee and supporting his head. "Is he ok now?" Right now Shuya was all that he could think of.

"_He's ok, the doctors took care of him. Don't just come rushing over here over, you have to take care of your job and the other matter now._" Ryoga calmed his little brother down, for he knew what usually was going on in Ryoma's head at these moments. "_If the brat is your kid he can handle it, trust me, I take care of him for you._"

"Just, let me know how he is doing and if things get worse… I'll leave everything and go there. Since it's getting harder not break down." Ryoma laughed a bitter laugh, once again remembering the way Keigo's lips had felt against his own, how they tasted of rain and everything he had wanted to feel. "It just keeps getting worse."

Ryoga didn't say anything back. Maybe he didn't know what to say, or just didn't want to. In the end, there was a sigh on Ryoga's end and then he simply said: "_You're strong, just keep fighting. Now Kevin is there too, he'll help. I will go now; maybe the brat is waking up._"

"Tell Shuya that I'm thinking about him." Ryoma managed to say before he closed his phone and fell back onto his bed. Things just got more stressful and complicated for him. "I'm pathetic." He muttered and continued to stare at the dark ceiling.

"Hey!" Kevin's voice made him look in the direction of the doors that led to the living room, "Wanna talk? You will feel better after." Kevin said, not using Japanese, and leaned against the wall. There was a small smile on his lips, a smile that managed to calm Ryoma down.

* * *

**A/N: This came out longer that I thought it will be. And Kevin is here. And I had to rewrite the rain scene fort about a thousand times, because it never felt right. That is all. **


	9. Knowing When to Stop

**Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, no real humans were used to make this story and the characters featured in this piece of work do not belong to me. Also, I do not make any profit from this.**

**Warning: possible grammar and spelling mistakes, as well as missing letters and/or words. **

**There will also be detailed sex scenes and possible violence, as well as bad language and slang words. This is/will be an mpreg (male pregnancy) story, so if this offends you please do not read it and turn back now.**

**Thank you for your understanding.**

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Knowing When to Stop.**

* * *

"So that is what happened? But knowing you it was to be expected." Kevin concluded after Ryoma had told him about what had happened until now. The blonde didn't judge and give the model stupid suggestions; he merely listened and told his personal opinion. "If it were me, I would have punched the living daylights out of the ass. But, it's your life, live it like you want to."

Ryoma didn't say anything. He merely stared blankly at the wall, deep in thought. After Kevin had taken the beer can away from him ("Moron, you're sick. What beer? Tea and get your ass to bed.") there was nothing that would help him forget.

"He still doesn't know about Atobe junior?" Kevin nonchalantly asked after a while, knowing full well about Ryoma's condition and what had led the poor man this far. "If you think that this is bad, wait until that pompous snob gets to know `bout his kid."

Ryoma threw him one of his glares, "Don't even mention something like that. As if I would let him find out about Shuya being his." He leaned back into the couch, "And don't call my son Atobe junior. You know I hate it when you call him that."

"Then what should I call him? He certainly doesn't look like a chibi version of you." Kevin let out his usual laugh and downed what was left of his beer. "And get real, he will find out sooner or later. Want it or not." There was no more humor in Kevin's voice. He was serious.

"I know. I know it, damn it." Ryoma cursed and covered his eyes with his hands, "But what the hell can _I_ do? It's not like he can't find out himself, if he tried. And Shuya's sick again. I… don't know what to do anymore."

Kevin didn't comment; there was nothing that he could say and make things easier for his best friend. There just wasn't anything to be said. He sighed and looked at his best friend. "How's your leg? Are the phantom pains still there?"

It was a weak attempt to change the subject. They both knew it far too well.

"Sometimes in the middle of the night I wake up from pain. But it happens very rarely and only after a rough day. Nothing to worry about." Ryoma decided to go on with the change of topic. Right now, he didn't want to think about Keigo and remember that he still felt something for the man.

"Shouldn't you see a doctor?" Kevin sounded slightly worried, "The phantom pains showed up only after you found out about coming here, didn't they? Before that your leg was just fine." The blonde knew the whole story behind the scar on Ryoma's right leg and why he had to give up on tennis. And he also knew whose fault it actually was.

Ryoma finally looked at his model friend again, the corners of his mouth lifting up just for a little bit, "Don't worry, it's not as bad as you think it is. I won't die. And besides," Ryoma took on a fond expression, "even if I had to give up tennis, I got something better in return."

"You sure have been turned into one of those parents that have an obsession with their own children." Kevin laughed, but was glad that Ryoma was no longer that moody and depressed version of himself. The model looked better when smiling or laughing; even a glaring Ryoma was good.

Ryoma mock-punched Kevin on the shoulder, but there was an amused smile playing on his lips. "You are such an idiot, you know that?"

"I know and am proud of it!" Kevin shot back and jumped off the couch. He showed his tongue to the golden-eyed man and walked to the small kitchen area for another beer. "It seems that I will be working tomorrow and sadly, not with you." He informed the other as he popped open the cold can of beer.

Ryoma rolled his eyes. He sometimes wondered if Kevin accidentally wasn't one of his stalkers. "Will you be lonely without me to hold your hand? Maybe I should treat you like I treat my brat?" he had to fight hard not to laugh at the peeved expression Kevin now had on his face.

"A-hole." the blonde mumbled and threw an orange, from the fruit bowl that was placed on the narrow counter in front of him, at Ryoma, hoping that the fruit will hit that smirking face.

Ryoma was about to throw a damn pillow at the blond, beer and fruits and fragile stuff be damned, but then the ringing of his phone cut through the excited before-the-battle silence that was in the apartment. Ryoma glared in the direction of his room and got up to go and pick up his phone, it wasn't Ryoga - his brother had a different ring tone.

The Dart Vader's theme song was set for work related matters and when his boss called.

He didn't check the ID, as always, and merely asked: "Echizen. What?" he wasn't in the mood to deal with work related crap. Not after all that had happened today.

"_Hello, this is Takahiro Anzu, Atobe Keigo-san's secretary. I was asked to find out if you would agree to come in place of another model tomorrow?_" The woman was just as business-like as she was when Ryoma met her for the first time, if not a bit more stoic. "_One of the models, Jun, will not be able to make it, due to some reasons._" She finished and waited for Ryoma's answer.

The model sighed and closed his eyes. "It's not like I have much of a choice, do I?" that was all that he will say to that woman, since she was the one that had talked to him in that 'you can't say no' voice. And he could work with Kevin too, so maybe it won't be that bad.

"_Understood. Ask for more information to the model that will be living with you starting this evening. I was told that you are fiends. Then, good night Echizen-san._" She bid her farewells and hung up. It seemed that Ryoma wasn't the only one with problems that had to be taken care of.

He threw the phone back on his bed and walked back to the living room to join Kevin for a before-the-sleep beer. "It seems that I will be in your shoot tomorrow too. Annoying." He said as he flopped down next to his blond friend on the couch.

Kevin just patted him on the back and returned to his beer. It was better to be close to Ryoma now, especially after all that crap that was just dumped on him.

* * *

Keigo sat in his big, spacey apartment, all alone in the dark and staring out of the window. His eyes were watching the small balls of lights so far down that moved and never stopped. The happy and carefree life that those pope down there had… He envied them so much sometimes.

_Think about myself… Are you mocking me?_

He had the urge to break and smash and destroy and cause pain to himself and just simply… Undo what he had done. To go and say such careless and hurtful things even after knowing the suffering he had caused Ryoma to feel. And now - to go and suddenly start to try and fix things…

"Am I a damned idiot? There is no way that Ryoma will just forgive and forget, he never did work that way." Keigo uttered to himself. It was a weak whisper, his earlier daring and the bit of courage now gone.

_All I have been thinking about is myself and Shuya and…_

That's right.

He just suddenly decided to try and get Ryoma to come back to him. If he truly wanted the man back in his life he should put more thought and work in it, try more and be more forceful, so that the model would see just how much Keigo needed him. Show him just what kind of mistake he had allowed to happen when he was young and stupid and naive.

Just... the mention of another man's name (Keigo noticed just now, after replaying the things that Ryoma had said in his head) from Ryoma… If there was someone that Ryoma had in his life, someone that loved the model and treasured him… that means that Keigo is too late to get Ryoma back?

"As if I will let some guy to take what is mine." Keigo growled now, sudden emotions of possessiveness and anger and jealousy taking over him, blinding his vision. "I will not let him walk away for a second time." He sounded determined.

Tomorrow, he will be at the photo shoot to supervise the work of models. Ryoma will be there too and maybe, just maybe he will have a chance to speak to the model and try to find out what Ryoma feels right now. What he thinks.

Keigo will not lose Ryoma for a second time. That is something he decided he will fight for.

* * *

"You two, you're doing great. Just change the pose, or at least don't look at each other like that anymore." Fuji instructed the two American models, namely Ryoma and Kevin, his voice had a tint of impatience to it.

Kevin rolled his eyes, not caring that his boss was there and that Fuji could get quite nasty when taken over the edge, but changed the way he was standing anyway. He leaned against the high chair that Ryoma was sitting in, pulling his fedora down, so that his eyes were shown just a little.

Ryoma, on the other hand, got more comfortable in the chair, crossing his right leg over the left one and placing his hand on the armrest, so that he could lean his head on two fingers of his left hand. The theme today was mafia and the two Americans managed to look just like the real deal. The looks, the slight air of mystery and the confidence…

They had it all.

A few snaps later they changed again, this time Kevin kneeled in front of Ryoma, his blue eyes glinting in mischief when Ryoma faked a cold expression and looked down on him, a smirk playing on his lips. It was the usual play that they did when working together, trying to get the best out of the roles that they were given. That was what they loved about this job.

"Ok. Enough for you two." Fuji ordered the two, the annoyance no longer there, since the two seemed to be giving their all for this. The photographer even sounded quite pleased. "Change the decorations and the next three come here and get ready. After that, Kiriko and Kevin."

Ryoma stood up and went to where Kiriko was standing, the black-haired Japanese model smiling as he came closer. Kiriko was wearing knee-length pants and a white dress shirt, his shoulder-length black hair were tied in a loose pony tail, some of the black locks hanging loosely around his face.

"Ryoma, guy I don't know yet. Your shoot was very good." Kiriko smiled once they were close enough for them to have a normal talk. "Though, I must ask, are you two an item? Because it surely seems so from the vibes you two give out." He sounded playful.

Kevin leaned on Ryoma, who didn't do anything to shrug him off. "No, we're not. Just your average best friends that like to goof off at times. Kevin, by the way." The blonde offered his hand for a shake, smiling friendly at the Japanese model.

"Kiriko. It's a pleasure." The other took his hand. It was a simple greeting, but the atmosphere between the three was already a comfortable one. Kiriko had to wander though, if Keigo had heard the best friends part, for it seemed that he was not pleased about Ryoma's and Kevin's closeness.

Or him being too close to Ryoma.

There had been something between the model on his boss, of that Kiriko was sure. But no matter whom he asked, they all refused to tell him what was wrong. It was a forbidden theme, that much Kiriko understood, but for Ryoma to ignore his boss like that… Something big had happened.

"So, why didn't Jun come today?" Ryoma asked, even though there was zero want to actually know Jun's reasons, "Anzu just suddenly called me yesterday evening and said that I have to be here." He was slightly annoyed by that, but as long as he could keep the softness of Keigo's lips out of his head…

But since the man was right in front of him, watching his every move and not letting him out of sight. It was hard, so hard he had to try extra hard to seem normal. His body called, _craved_, for the touch of the other, for the touch that he hadn't felt for so long. Only Kevin probably saw how uncomfortable and aware of Keigo Ryoma felt.

Kiriko blinked a few times, genuinely surprised. "She did and he did? As far as I know, he was ready to go and show those, I quote, American pros that think that they are all _that_, what he was made of." Kiriko sighed, as if the simple thought of Jun brought him a headache.

Before any could say something else Ryoma suddenly jumped, shaking Kevin off of his shoulder in the same time. The other two looked at him in concern; Ryoma was not a person that would suddenly jump for no apparent reason.

"Phantom pains?" Kevin asked, the worry so clear in his voice. He had seen the moments when the phantom pains hit Ryoma and this seemed like one of those moments. "If it is, do you have pills with you? Or is the fewer coming up again?"

Ryoma waved him away from his face. "It's not. It's my phone, it just surprised me, that's all." He started to dig in the pockets of his black pants, searching for the small device. "I know that I shouldn't have taken it with me but what if something was to happen to Shuya… I couldn't calm down."

Once the phone was in his hands and Ryoma saw the one that was calling him, those golden eyes widened and both Kiriko and Kevin could see the way that his fingers started to shake a bit. Ryoma swallowed and then mumbled a quick excuse, before running out of the studio.

Kiriko was about to ask what that was about, but someone else interrupted him. Keigo had come closer to them, wanting to remind the two American models to get go and change before their turn is up again, especially Kevin. He was still standing around in the clothes that they had used already.

But in reality, he was just annoyed that they had been so close and clingy to Ryoma. It drove him mad to see his loved one so close to another man that seemed to be more than just a person he knows.

"I thought I had told you that private talks are forbidden during work." He lazily drawled out, not in the least interested in the talk that Ryoma was having. Because, it might as well be the mysterious Shuya that Ryoma had mentioned yesterday. "When Echizen comes back please inform him that I am forced to reduce his pay for today. His free time is meant for contacting lovers and such."

The next action surprised Kiriko and the ones that were standing around them. Kevin had made this horrible and pissed-off expression before grabbing Keigo by the front of his shirt. The blond model that glared the best he could at his boss, the fact that he might be fired because of this was the last of his worries at the moment.

The mere thought of Keigo making fun of Ryoma like this, while not knowing what the man had to go through because of him, and still has to… The fact that he didn't have enough brain cells to figure out that Ryoma reacted like that only when his family was involved. It made him see red in front of his eyes.

"Listen here you fucking ass," Kevin snarled in English, getting the attention of those that knew English well, "Ryoma has a seriously sick brat back in America and right now he might be hearing that the brat is dying or something. So why won't you shut that goddamn mouth of yours the fuck up, since you have no idea what is going on, before I shut it for you, huh?" the very end was whispered out, the last worlds meant only for Keigo to hear.

He then released his hold on Keigo, fighting back the urge to do _something_ to the man that had dared to talk like he knows all. Keigo, on the other hand, was too shocked to speak. The information about Ryoma having a child was running around in his head, repeating itself over and over again, as if it was mocking him.

Keigo swallowed, "Well sorry, but I was not informed about the condition of his family members." It was hard to act like the usual Keigo, the one that didn't care about the small matters and the way that other people reacted to his actions. "He should have informed me beforehand about this and then I would not have acted like I did just now. But he didn't, so it is not my fault."

It was exactly then that Ryoma shoved up again. He didn't pause or look around and went straight to Keigo, stopping right in front of the man. "Excuse me, but I am forced to leave this job because of problems in my family. A replacement will be sent here in two days time." With that he turned around and grabbed his stuff, ready to leave.

Right now Ryoma couldn't care less about what Keigo had to say. Shuya's condition had worsened suddenly and the only thing he wanted to do no, was to be besides his kid. It was all that he cared about right now.

Ryoma left a confused and startled silence behind himself. No one dared to speak.

* * *

**A/N: Who also thinks that I ended the whole thing in such a stupid and moronic way? I bet most of you. :D **

**I won't go too into details, since I bet no one reads my rants anyway, and just go ahead and ask the most stupid question ever - should he or should he not? Yes, I do realize that it's a weird question whose meaning you don't get. It's for me and it will help me in the making of the next chapter. So just answer with a 'should' or 'should not'. **

**That is all. (And this phrase is stupid as hell.)**

**P.S. You English speaking people have some strange names for hats. I had to search for good five minutes to find what I need, and I am not sure I found the right one. :(**


	10. For The Hope

**Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, no real humans were used to make this story and the characters featured in this piece of work do not belong to me. Also, I do not make any profit from this.**

**Warning: possible grammar and spelling mistakes, as well as missing letters and/or words. **

**There will also be detailed sex scenes and possible violence, as well as bad language and slang words. This is/will be an mpreg (male pregnancy) story, so if this offends you please do not read it and turn back now.**

**Thank you for your understanding.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten: For The Hope.**

* * *

The world was a cruel place.

Ryoma had learned that more than once already. Whatever things you believe in, whatever you hope to hold on to for the rest of your life - there will be things that will rip you away from them and push you further into the blackness and cruelty of reality.

Because that was the way that the world worked.

So when Ryoma held his own little boy in his hands for the first time he thought - _Maybe this world isn't so bad after all?_ But now, after being told that his little boy had another seizure, another horrible seizure that would close his eyes forever…

The world became a cruel, black place once again.

"Excuse me, sir. Are you alright?" a gentle, yet worried woman's voice interrupted his frail and discursive dreams, nightmares rather.

Ryoma sighed before opening his eyes to the weak light of the airplane saloon. The blonde flight attendant seemed worried about him, though, Ryoma couldn't really understand why. "Yes, just a bad dream. I am sorry for worrying you." He whispered back at her and changed his sitting pose.

"Alright then, call me if you need anything, sir." The flight attendant smiled a genuine business smile and left him alone. Ryoma watched her back as she walked away, those hips swaying more than they should be.

_Disgusting. _The model thought to himself and sighed again. This was a tiring flight, the nighttime only making it a bit easier to endure. It will be morning when he gets to New York, probably. If only he had stayed there, with Shuya then all this crap with Keigo wouldn't have happened; Shuya wouldn't have been placed in hospital again, maybe. And yet… he just had to go to that damned Japan.

For a long time Ryoma started off into the dark sky that never changed outside the small, round airplane window. His head was empty and no matter how hard he tried nothing worth thinking about, or imagining, came up. Only the surprised and wet face of one Atobe Keigo, with his cheek all bruised and red, sitting on the wet street, the raindrops falling around him haunted Ryoma's mind at this late hour.

And then there was his pail and fragile child, lying on the hospital bed, covered by the white sheets that had the typical medicine smell to them. So many machines connected to that little body. And the doctors announcing the fatal diagnose to Ryoma, a thing that will haunt both him and his son for a long, long time.

The rest of the flight went by in a blur of episodes from when he was awake and the haunting dreams that he had while he slept. Or tried to sleep. It was a blur of everything that he didn't want to see, live through again or be forced to in the future. All that only brought down the heavy weight of the reality that Ryoma tried to forget just for a moment.

The world had become a cruel place for him.

* * *

"Ryoma! God, you look horrible." Ryoga called out to his brother when the tired and sleep-deprived model fell though the door of his son's hospital room. The elder Echizen wasn't any better, but at least his outer look wasn't as horrible as Ryoma's.

The newly arrived father only pushed his older brother out of the way, his eyes searching for his son already. "Who the fuck cares about how I look? Shuya, where is he?" the small bed was empty, the sheets looking as if someone had slept in them not too long ago.

"Check up. Don't worry, the brats strong – he's fighting hard." Ryoga answered, his voice low and reassuring. He grabbed Ryoma by the shoulders and pushed the man into the nearby seat, not allowing any objections to fall out of Ryoma's mouth. "But you need to sleep and eat and shower. And have something stronger than water to for a drink."

"I don't…" Ryoma sighed, he couldn't say anything. "What happened?" it was a weak whisper, but there was nothing more that Ryoma could say. He didn't know what to feel – glad that Shuya was ok, or worried about what is to come?

Ryoga also sat down. He leaned back into the chair and looked up at the white hospital ceiling. "At first it was only a few coughs and a temperature. Because that brat is the way he is I took him to the hospital right away. Now…" Ryoga quieted down for a moment and turned his eyes away from the ceiling to look at his younger brother, "Like I told you, complications. For a moment there a machine was breathing for him. It's better now."

"Oh god. Not again." Ryoma buried his face in his cold palms. His hands were shaking lightly, but Ryoga couldn't tell if it was from the cold or the fear that the man felt. "I don't want to go through that horror again. That child… he's been through so much already…"

"He's your spawn. That brat will live though this and even laugh about it afterwards. You, on the other hand… couldn't live after you lost everything, but that was because you had no one to hold you up." Ryoga said, getting up to go out of the small room and take a stroll around to see if they had something to eat. "No one, except me and the brat."

Just then the door opened and the doctors brought in Shuya, who immediately smiled and called out for his father when he saw Ryoma. The three year old refused to let go of his dad, so doctors had no choice but to inform Ryoma of his son's condition while Shuya himself was present. They usually didn't do that, but…

They could see that both the parent and the child had missed each other so much.

* * *

Kevin didn't care what Keigo wanted from him and he couldn't care less about what the Japanese will do to him. So what if the man will fire him? He's a popular fellow, others will want him. If the Japanese will start to yell at him, so what? He has long since learned Ryoma's skill on ignoring people he didn't like. Sometimes it was a good thing that his best friend could be so ignorant of the people around him.

"Smith." Keigo made Kevin pay attention to the situation at hand right now. How that man could make him do that with just one world, was still a mystery to the blonde model.

"What? You want to shit talk about Ryoma again?"He didn't care if he was rude and if the director would feel offended. Because really, the man was an ass and all asses deserved to be put in their rightful place. "Or maybe you want to get rid of me now, since I seem to be on Ryoma's side and disrespect you _oh so much_?"

The way that Keigo's face twisted up in something reminding of guilt and pain and hurt and anger almost made Kevin rethink his choice of words. Almost. What Ryoma had been though, what he had to bear for so long and all the insecurities that he feels right now… It was all the fault of that man and that man deserves to know it.

Keigo took a deep breath before talking again. "I was an asshole, I know. Ryoma deserves so much better, I know that also. But, I cannot let him go. I need him. And I was a fool that I could not see this sooner." It was like a confession that he had held in for so long.

"_You don't deserve him._"Kevin hissed, the blue eyes glaring icy daggers at the rich man, "Not then, not now. Not _ever_. All that you did… He was so close to breaking down completely. The only thing that kept him from sinking was his brat." Kevin knew that Ryoma wouldn't want Keigo to know about Shuya, but this was the only way to make the man to finally back down. At least, that was what Kevin though.

"That's why I want to change everything, damn it!" Keigo suddenly yelled, standing straight up and banging his hands on the desk. "I want to take that place in Ryoma's life that I missed to take. I want to be the one that can hold half of his burdens… I want to see his smile _one more damn time_ damn it!" The purple-haired man's breath was coming out in short puffs; those blue eyes had darkened to black.

"I just want to see him smile again. That is it." Keigo forced out of himself and fell in his chair again. He covered his face with his hands, sweaty and cold, and sighed. "But what the hell can I do? He no longer trusts humans, much less _me_."

Kevin stayed silent for a while. He looked at the pathetic excuse of the man that he had once known as someone that couldn't be moved by such fragile emotions and that could withstand any kind of hardship thrown his way. Was that man really the one he used to know and this wreck the same human being?

The blonde tch'ed. "You're both damn fools." he took one of the pens from Keigo's desk and twirled in his fingers. "You do realize that the only man in Ryoma's life right now is his son, right? You have no place in it anymore." The model wanted to see the Japanese suffering a bit longer.

"Son… Of course I am aware that… Son? That must mean that he has someone special after all. That he trusts a human after all." The way that Keigo spoke was as if he had finally placed all the pieces of the puzzle together. "So maybe, he does not need me after all. But those eyes, those golden ambers, they do not shine like they used to."

"You moronic asshole!" Kevin suddenly yelled and was already standing on Keigo's desk, the front of Keigo's shirt in his hand. "You actually _think_ that Ryoma would be willing to start a new relationship right after the crap that you had put him though? He's not _you._"

The surprise that had taken over Keigo was mirrored with the hate that pulsated though Kevin's blood. The dumbstruck met the freezing rage. The way that Kevin's hands trembled showed that the blond model was using all of his willpower to keep himself from hitting the Japanese.

Keigo found himself again, and the surprise was washed away with the coldness of anger that wasn't as large and destructive as Kevin's right now, but could still make fear show in the people around him. "Let. Me. Go." Keigo's voice was even, emotionless and commanding. He grabbed the wrist of Kevin's right hand, the one that was holding his shirt, and squeezed. "_Now_."

"Fuck. You. Bitch." Kevin answered in the same tone of voice that brought fear to those that had angered him. His face had twisted in anger, eyes as cold as ice. It was as if the very presence of Keigo angered him.

With one swift movement Kevin had pulled back his left hand, fingers already balled up in a fist and swung it forward. The awful crack that followed soon after his fist connected with Keigo's face echoed in the empty and dark office room. Blood now covered the bruised skin of Kevin's left fist and the front of Keigo's shirt, along with a part of his face.

The rich Japanese man touched the warm liquid with his fingertips and then looked at it with wide eyes. This was probably the first time in a while that he had seen his own dark red blood. If not the first time in general, since people of high-class like he himself, did not shed their own blood. They only ordered others to do so.

"That idiot I call my best friend still loves _you_, of all people. He hasn't had anyone since you and he doesn't _need _anyone." Kevin said, not caring they there was a chance that he had broken the nose of the man that had hired him. "I will fucking hate myself for this later but this is probably what Ryoma finally needs to finish once and for all…. New York, that's all I will tell you, ass."

The blond man sent a glare at Keigo one last time and turned around to jump off of the desk. He didn't bother to acknowledge the quiet 'thank you' that followed his back and simply left the room. For one day he had had enough. Enough of everything.

* * *

"Atobe-san, you can't move while in that condition. Your clothes are bloody and your nose might be broken. Atobe-san!" Anzu tried to stop her boss. Her black high heels clacked against the wooden floor as she tried to run after her boss in the black pencil-skirts she was wearing.

Keigo didn't care. He had to get to New York, find Ryoma and… And help the model. Help the broken man to get his smile back. And to get back his smile Keigo will have to help the model's son. Because, like Kevin said, that child is probably the only reason that Ryoma was able to live on.

There were nails suddenly digging into Keigo's arm. Anzu had managed to catch him, finally. He could fear the cloth of his jacket ripping. So the Japanese stopped and turned to face his secretary. "Anzu, I have to do this. And a broken nose is the least that I deserve for everything that I have done." Keigo's tone was enough to show that he was in no mood to play games or care for his health and appearance.

The usually business-like woman just stared at Keigo; her eyes searching for something, _anything_ that would help her stop her boss. Some doubt or maybe fear, that unsure gaze or a trembling hand. But there was nothing in Keigo's body language and in facial expressions that would help her in any way.

Anzu sighed, but didn't let go of Keigo's jacket just yet. "If you must. But please, at least change and see a doctor first. Please." It was a quiet plead to think about himself from Anzu. She rarely begged, but when she did, it was from the heart. "Please, Atobe-san."

Keigo looked at her, thinking over her pleads and requests. Finally he sighed. "On my way to the airport. Find Echizen's address and the hospital where his child is. Please, Anzu." He gently pulled her hand away from his jacket and turned to leave.

"Yes, sir." Anzu quietly said and waited for Keigo to disappear from her view to go do what she was asked to. It was painful to love a man that could not love her back, because his heart belonged to someone else.

* * *

**A/N: I will start to update randomly again. **

**And the 'should or should not' was about whether or not Keigo should go after Ryoma. And since most of you said should… HERE YOU GO! **

**Kevin was just so hard-core awesome in this chap again. I am falling in love with him now. **

**Ayingott ends her retarded rambling with a 'I love you people'. **


	11. Two Worlds

**Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, no real humans were used to make this story and the characters featured in this piece of work do not belong to me. Also, I do not make any profit from this.**

**Warning: possible grammar and spelling mistakes, as well as missing letters and/or words. **

**There will also be detailed sex scenes and possible violence, as well as bad language and slang words. This is/will be an mpreg (male pregnancy) story, so if this offends you please do not read it and turn back now.**

**Thank you for your understanding.**

* * *

**Bold is for English.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Two Worlds.**

* * *

"Daddy, are you ok?" Shuya asked his dad, those big, honey-colored eyes glued to Ryoma's tired face. The childish curiosity and worry that reflected in them could make any grown-up go soft inside, all the kids could do this.

Ryoma ruffled his son's hair, "'M fine brat. Don't worry and go back to sleep." He placed his hands on top of Shuya's forehead to see if the child was still feverish. "I won't go anywhere." It was a promise he would keep.

"Ok." The small boy whispered out and yawned, bringing his hands to up rub the sleepy eyes.

It had been a long day for the two of them. All the check-ups and explanations about what Shuya was going through, the doctors that calmed Ryoma down, saying that it was just a virus and nothing more… Ryoma just wanted to close his eyes and sleep after all of that. The worry was gone now; a wave of relief that took over him was the one that reminded the model just how tired he really was.

Only when Shuya was breathing lightly against his stomach did Ryoma close his eyes. A sigh escaped past his lips, just thinking about what he had done yesterday to his boss, the fact that he left Kevin behind, all the drama that must be happening back in Japan… Maybe it was a good thing that he left?

_I shouldn't go back there again. _He opened his eyes again, the dirty ceiling, once white, looked back at him. _It really is too painful to go back there._

No matter what anyone said, Ryoma now thought that going back and facing the demons that haunted him in his dreams now.. It was too much to bear for his broken and poorly mended soul. It was hard, so hard to look in the eyes of those people that betrayed him, no matter how it may look on the outside. He was tired from it all, so tired.

"You should sleep. Now." The voice of his brother pulled Ryoma out of the frail emotional state of mind that he had gotten himself into. "You look like a ghost and a sick one to boot. So, as I have said the last million times, go to sleep." The elder Echizen threw the blanket over his brother's head and then flopped down on one of the worn-out chairs that were placed in the ward.

"If that was so easy to do…" Ryoma mumbled to himself, pulling the blanket off from his head, "Even if my body is tired, my mind just doesn't stop." He covered his eyes with the palm of his right hand, as if begging for something.

The elder Echizen looked at his little brother with concern showing in his eyes. No matter what he would do, right now Ryoga wasn't able to help his little brother. It was a battle that Ryoma will have to fight on his own, since there was nothing that Ryoga could say or do that would make the pain a little less unbearable.

"I will sleep now." Ryoma's quiet voice came from under the blankets.

Ryoga allowed the corners of his lips to pull up a bit, before he sighed and leaned deeper into the armchair. "Good boy."

* * *

Keigo walked around the corner and came face to face with the hospital building where he hoped to find Ryoma.

He found the model's address from 'Aurora's Kiss's employee files, or more like, he made his men hack the whole data base and pull out everything they could find about the model. All of his previous jobs, shoots and commercials, as well as the basic information about Ryoma himself. It wasn't hard to find where he, Ryoma, lived; it was harder to locate the hospital where the model's child might be admitted to.

But right now, Keigo didn't care. He just wished to find Ryoma, apologize and… and get a step closer to getting him back, to having him in his arms again… A step closer to feeling Ryoma's warmth on his skin again, just like before.

The director of the modeling agency stepped inside the white building, the sharp scent of medicine hitting him and the blurry white of the nurse uniforms whizzing before his eyes blinded him for a moment. The chatter of human voices and the clatter of chairs and phone and everything else deafened Keigo for a small moment, but only for a few small moments.

He walked straight to the receptionist, already planning what he should say and do in his head. The chubby lady with short and fluffy black hair that was answering a phone call, when he finally reached the receptionists table, never looked up, just slid a blank form to him and continued to type something in the computer, her long, red nails clacking against the plastic keys.

Keigo waited for her to finish before speaking to her, only the slight accent giving away the fact that he wasn't from around here. Not that the nurse cared. "**Excuse me, could you please tell me where I can find a patient by the name Echizen?**" he asked, fingers drumming the light green table surface.

"**Huh?**" the nurse, Annabelle seemed to be her name judging from the name tag, looked away from the computer screen, "**A visitor?**" she seemed surprised for some reason. A few seconds of clacking later she sighed and took out a small piece of paper and a pen, "**Third floor, block C, ward number 3008. If you get lost, just ask someone for the way, the parents might know too.**"

She slid the small paper to Keigo and only then actually looked at him. The man only nodded with his head a little, took the offered piece of paper and left. The last thing he wanted was questions that he couldn't answer from the staff.

And she seemed to finally notice just to who she was talking to.

Keigo took the elevator to the third floor, enjoying the ride with a company of a crying toddler and two nurses that giggled behind him. Once he got out the first thing he saw were children walking around together with their parents. Keigo merely spared them a glance and then started to follow the rows of room numbers, hoping to find what he was looking for.

He spotted the number 3008 on an opened door, just around yet another corner. There were voices coming out from the ward, so he decided to wait for the doctors to leave first, leaning against the wall just behind the door.

"…**a few more days just to be sure nothing will happen again. But you have nothing to worry about, mister Echizen.**" An elderly man's voice reached Keigo's ears. "**However, we will need the signature of both parents.**" That caught Keigo's attention.

There was a small moment of silence, when Ryoma's quiet voice joined the conversation. "**That won't be possible, you know that doctor Strauser.**" To Keigo, the model sounded so tired and worn-out. His whole body wanted to go in the ward and embrace that frail man. "**Besides, he will never do it, even if he suddenly finds out.**"

_He? _Keigo's eyes shot to the door of the ward 3008 and stayed frozen on it. No matter how much he tried to make sense of what Ryoma had just said, he couldn't. Maybe they were talking about the boy himself? But the doctor had mentioned the set of words - 'both parents'.

"**Yes, I am. Your case is special, after all. Still…**" the old doctor talked calmly, not rushing and making sure that Ryoma follows the things he was saying, probably. Keigo could only imagine what was going on inside the room.

There was a small _thump_ and then Ryoma talked again. "**Ryoga is here, he can sign as the fathe- other parent. Because **_**he**_** doesn't even know, much less care.**" There was this bitter edge to Ryoma's words that somehow made Keigo's hands tremble and the guilty feeling to overcome him.

There was a sigh, "**Alright, but please think about it, mister Echizen. I am only asking this for safety reasons. You are aware of that.**" There were footsteps coming closer to the door.

Keigo shifted away from the door a bit - he didn't want to be seen by the doctor or Ryoma just yet. It would be better if he allowed the model to know about him being here a bit later, after the doctor had gone away; at least, he thought so.

"**Thank you.**" Ryoma's voice reached Keigo's ears again. This time, the tone that Ryoma used promised that the male won't listen to the doctor's orders and won't contact the other parent of the child. Keigo had heard this tone plenty of times while they were still together. "**Also for the pills, they helped.**"

"**No need, mister Echizen. Just take care of yourself as well, if you continue to skip sleep you will faint sooner or later. And that will only worry your brother and son.**" There was a small, fatherly chuckle before the white of the doctor's coat whizzed past Keigo's eyes.

It seemed that the old doctor was too busy with other things, since he didn't even bother to look up from the opened folder that was in his hands. Maybe that was a good thing. Keigo watched the man in the white leave, his mind wondering about the talk he had just heard, accidentally, and about what he should do now.

"Why do they all think that they know these things better than me?" there was a quiet mumble from the ward. "The hell are they anyway…" it was a question meant to no one.

"They worry about you, that is all there is to it." Keigo answered unknowingly. The words just left his mouth on their own; he couldn't control what he was saying.

There was silence. Keigo couldn't see what Ryoma was doing right now; all that Keigo could hear was that horrible silence that hid what was most important at the moment. But he waited, waited for Ryoma to speak out first, to acknowledge him.

"Go away." It was said quietly, Keigo could barely hear the words. "Get out now. I don't want to see you again. All you do is make my life even more miserable." The tremble in Ryoma's voice was enough to make Keigo move from his spot.

He grabbed the opened door and rounded it, his blue eyes landing on the pale and sickly-looking model, sitting on the hospital bed, in seconds. The wide-eyed stare that he got back quickly turned into a glare, those golden irises glowing from the unhidden pain and anger that Ryoma was probably feeling right now.

The model clutched the sheets under his fingers. "Get the fuck out of my sight. Now!" his voice was low and sounded like a feral growl of an angered beast.

"I.. came to see you." Keigo tightened his grip on the door, "To apologize to you, for everything, to ask you to…" he was lost for words; he didn't know what he could say to make things better. Because there was nothing that would make Ryoma detest him less.

Ryoma took a deep breath; his whole body was trembling from barely controlled anger. "I already told you, there is _**nothing**_ that will make me feel something for you again. _**Nothing**_. So stop tormenting me and just… disappear from my life. For good."

The model was about to say something else, but then he started to sway. The golden eyes disappeared behind Ryoma's eyelids and then the frail-looking body started to fall forward. Keigo quickly moved, his hands stretching forward to catch the model, what he did. The warmth that he could feel was so familiar on his skin.

He sat there, on the floor, with Ryoma in his hands, and hugged the unconscious body close to himself.

"It has been so long… So very long." He muttered against the mop of dark-green hair, the weak smell of vanilla hitting his nose each time he breathed in. He closed his eyes, just feeling…

While sitting like that, Keigo didn't notice the thumps of small feel behind his back and a quiet 'eh?' when the owner of those feet stopped in the doorway. He did, however, feel the light tap on his arm.

When the rich man turned his face to his right side, the honey-colored eyes that were staring up at him were wide and full of curiosity; those small fingers still clutching to Keigo's jacket. Before Keigo could say or ask something, the child spoke first, his words jumbling up at first.

"**Mshter*, what are you doing with my daddy?**"

* * *

Kiriko sighed for the tenth time that day, his mind replaying the schedule for the day over and over again. He just got to know that Ryoma, his new interest, just left to America, back to his boy, and now only the blonde model from 'Aurora's kiss' was left.

How boring.

He wanted to talk and get to know Ryoma some more, even if just a little. The American model seemed to understand what it feels like to hurt deep inside. He had seen his scars, the ones that were forever etched on his back. And he didn't laugh or question him about them.

"Heeeey, Kiri, we're going. Move it or we leave you here!" Jun's voice brought the Japanese out of his slight daydream. "What are you even doing here?" the green-eyed model leaned closer to Kirko's face.

The black-haired man twisted his mouth a little and turned away from his childhood friend. "None of your business." He tied his hair up as he walked away from the smirking man, "What do you want anyway?"

"Nothing, nothing…" Jun easily fell in peace with Kiriko and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his black kahi pants, "Nothing at all."

* * *

***It's supposed to be like that.**

**A/N: It only took me a month to get this up. Fabulous.**

**Dedicated to my hubby, since she soothed my stressed out soul. I love you lots baby! 3**


	12. Who's Your Daddy?

**Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, no real humans were used to make this story and the characters featured in this piece of work do not belong to me. Also, I do not make any profit from this.**

**Warning: possible grammar and spelling mistakes, as well as missing letters and/or words. **

**There will also be detailed sex scenes and possible violence, as well as bad language and slang words. This is/will be an mpreg (male pregnancy) story, so if this offends you please do not read it and turn back now.**

**Thank you for your understanding.**

**Bold is for English.**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Who's Your Daddy?**

* * *

"Kiri.." Jun whined, heaving a sigh soon after, "You're so boring tonight. You're not even the moody-leave-me-alone guy anymore. You are simply... depressing." The blonde poked Kiriko's forehead, only to get his hand swatted away seconds later.

"Leave me alone." The Japanese glared, his grey eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

Kiriko got up from where he sat on the sofa and walked to the kitchen area of the male models dormitory. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Jun's boredom or any of the overly-talkative models that were currently hanging around the dorm. It was too suffocating to be here, to listen to those careless laughs that floated around the rooms.

He wanted to get away from it all.

There was shuffling behind Kiriko, but he didn't turn around to face the person that had followed him."Kiri, what's up with you?" Jun's voice seemed to be a tad bit serious than before.

"Nothing. Leave me alone." The black-haired man replied while searching for a clean cup. "I just don't feel like entertaining you tonight." He poured some orange juice for himself.

When the Japanese turned around he met with the green eyes that seemed to search through his soul when they connected with his own. Jun could do this, when he wanted to. He could stare at you, as if he could see the deepest parts of you that would be better off hidden. That's why Kiriko didn't like him. That's why he didn't want to communicate with the other model.

He wanted to keep things hidden, the way it has been for a long time.

"What?" he curtly asked, bringing the cup to his lips.

Jun waved his hand and walked away. "Nothing, nothing. But you should really stop acting like a tsundere in love, it brings the mood down." He snickered at the choking sounds coming from behind him and joined the others in the game of twister.

"Who's a tsundere?" Kiriko managed to yell back, but it didn't have much effect on the blonde.

Though, he knew all too well that what Jun said might be… somewhat true. Not that he would admit to others, but for so many years he had been afraid to show people his scars. For so long he had been avoiding talking about the physical and emotional torment with others. And yet, the Japanese saw all those deep scars etched in his skin and didn't question them.

Really. What was happening to him?

Kiriko sighed, placing the cup down on the table and leaned against it. He was supposed to be the 'cool, emotionless type', not this depressed, snappy version of himself. What was he, a high-school girl in love? Kiriko's face twisted at that thought, no possible way.

But maybe, just maybe… he should agree to that offer after all?

* * *

"**Mshter, what are you doing with my daddy?**" the little kid asked, his honey-colored eyes shining in curiosity.

Keigo blinked a few times and looked down on the man that was sleeping in his arms now. "Daddy?" he looked back at the child, not missing the strange similarities in the child's face with his own, "**Is Ry-Echizen your father, child?**"

"**Un. So let go of daddy.**" The little boy said, his free, small hand clutching to Ryoma's larger one. "**Daddy doesn't like to be touched by people.**" Those honey-colored eyes shone with the same fighting spirit as Ryoma's had long ago. It was the same spark that Keigo remembered.

"**Don't worry, I was just helping him.**" Keigo stammered out and got a better hold of the sleeping man in his arms, "**If you let go, I can put him back in the bed.**" He wasn't sure what to do now. Sure, he wanted to come and see both Ryoma and his kid, but to meet like this…

He got up and walked to the white hospital bed. After lying Ryoma down on the crumpled sheets Keigo covered him with the blanket and gently pushed the few strands of hair away from the model's face. It has been a long time since Keigo had the chance to touch Ryoma like this. His fingers no longer remembered the smoothness of Ryoma's skin.

He turned away from the model and faced the child again.

Keigo expected the child to be like Ryoma, in many ways. Not even just in looks, some of Ryoma's personality should be inherited too. But what he didn't understand were those small traits that reminded Keigo of… of himself (the light purple heir was just one of them).

_He probably just found a woman that looked somewhat like me. Because... _he stopped that track of thought and shook his head slightly. Impossible, that was impossible, surely. _But this child…_ he couldn't quite shake off that _**feeling**_ that came over him when looking at the kid.

"**Mister. Who are you?**" it was a simple question that left the child's mouth. Actually, Keigo thought to himself, that should have been the first thing to find out. But then again, it didn't matter that much.

Keigo found a small stool under the bed Ryoma was occupying and sat on it. "**I am.. An old friend of your dad's. Keigo Atobe is my name.**" he didn't bother to say much more; usually this was enough to please the little brats. "**You are his boy, am I right?**" just for the sake of it, Keigo wanted the child to confirm what was so painfully obvious.

"**I'm Shuya. And that's my daddy.**" The small boy pointed to the sleeping model. The bear that the child was clutching in his hands until now fell on the floor and was left there as Shuya climbed on one of the worn-out chairs.

Keigo didn't know what to do now. He couldn't ask all the questions he wished to, for the child, around three years old from the looks of it, didn't possess the answers. And besides, it was too… awkward now; the child only stared at him and nothing else. If a doctor came or something, then at least… But no, Keigo was alone with a three year old and his passed out father.

"**Ne, mister.**" Surprisingly, Shuya was the first one to talk, bringing Keigo out of his inner debate. For a little brat he was pretty can-do. "**If you know my daddy, do you also know my mommy? Daddy said that she is in Japan.**"

Keigo blinked. Mommy? So then, Ryoma had a fling with some Japanese woman three years ago? Wait, then he also had been going astray at the end of their already broken relationship? Or maybe it was after Ryoma had walked out of his life, never looking back?

Keigo looked at the sleeping form of the model and his ex, not really knowing how to answer the child. "**I… I am not that family-**"

The door to the hospital room was thrown open (Keigo hadn't noted that the doors had been closed at some point) and the slightly older version of Ryoma walked in, a bag full of sweets in one hand and some alcoholic beverages in the other. The man stopped his movements and focused his eyes on Keigo, the gaze strong and burning, almost the same color of gold as Ryoma's eyes were. He narrowed his eyes, then sighed and threw the bags on the small table next to the ward door.

He then turned to Shuya and put his hands in the pockets of his pants, "Go and play with the brats in the play room, I have something to talk with him." It was perfect Japanese that the man used to speak to the kid.

"Okai, uncle." Shuya laughed and jumped off from the chair, waved to Keigo goodbye and ran out of the room, his little footsteps echoing from the hallways for a little while until the door was closed shut.

The man threw a look at the bed, where Ryoma was sleeping and then allowed his eyes to travel back to Keigo. "Why are you here?" he asked, not bothering to be polite.

Keigo wasn't stupid; he guessed this was Ryoma's big brother, the one that he had heard so much about after the whole "tennis-competition-on-the-fake-ship" incident. Ryoma still kept contact with him after all that, that much Keigo knew. Though, he has never met with Ryoga before, Keigo didn't quite know why though. But Ryoga never came to Japan too, so he figured that the older brother didn't quite accept of his relationship with Ryoma from the very beginning.

"Because…" Keigo started, not really sure what to do now, but still determined about his choice. "Because, I want to see him smile again. I want to erase the pain that I have caused and somehow, in whatever way it is necessary, get him back." He was a brave man, but still, his hands shook lightly as he talked.

"Bullshit." Ryoga hissed low and swore under his breath, "Stop bullshitting me and everybody else. The only reason you're here is because you're envious of my lil' bro'." the older Echizen stepped closer to the businessman and leaned down a bit, "You want him only because he, unlike you, is somewhat _happy _now."

The way that Ryoma's brother was now looking at him, with the eyes of an animal, made unwanted shivers run up and down Keigo's back. He felt like being trapped in a cage, together with a lion that hasn't been fed yet.

Ryoga slowly breathed in, eyes narrowing and getting a bit darker: "I will _not_ give my lil' bro' to _you_."

* * *

"Amagi-san, what are you doing here? You should be at the dorms right now." Anzu blinked, putting the papers she was carrying on the table. "And if you are looking or Atobe-san, he's not here." She placed the few loose strands of hair behind her ear and looked at the model.

Kiriko made a face at being called by his surname – he hated when people did that. "I don't need him. I wanted to know the address of Aurora's Kiss." He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket, tilting his head on the right a little.

Anzu raised one eyebrow and crossed her hands over her chest. "There is this thing called internet; learn to use it for once. You are not allowed in here. Out." She never did like models; they always thought that everything was allowed for them. So she never failed to let them see her dislike towards them and what they did.

"Listen, just because you were dumped by that gu-" he recoiled back, barely evading the sharp nails that were aiming for his cheek. "Are you crazy?" he stepped back from the woman a little. "My face is what helps me survive in this industry."

The woman made a face, "_Never _mention your brother in front of me again. Now get out." She was breathing heavily; her chest was going up and down, the white blouse moving together with it. "Damn you, models. Always caring only about your looks."

"Now, now, Anzu-chan. That's not how someone working in the modeling industry should talk. But you know that already, don't you?" Fuji stepped between the two, unnoticed until now like always and smiled. "You too, Kiriko. Don't make her mad."

The secretary glared at the photographer and the model and turned away, grabbing her purse from the table. She didn't say a word as she walked away from them. However, once she reached the glass door she turned around and glared at the two men. "I will report this to Atobe-san and you both will be punished for being here."

"You will be too, since you are leaving us here. Alone." Fuji chuckled, his eyes opened a little, letting the electrifying blue shine in the dark, "Or do you _wish_ to be punished? I wonder…" he liked the pale face that Anzu made; it only gave him the pleasure to continue.

The secretary gritted her teeth and after throwing Fuji a look of utter hate and disgust left the room, kicking the door shut after herself. Once the echo of her high heels stopped Fuji laughed out and pushed back some loose strands of his hair, facing Kirko.

"Really, that woman never changes." He sighed, "Even now she still does everything to destroy all of Atobe's relationships. Really, what a scary woman." He flipped through the documents that Anzu had forgotten of the table.

Kiriko merely stared. He knew more than enough to stay shut around Fuji. It was never good to talk too much around Fuji, who knows what might happen. But still, Kiriko was curious. "Fuji-san, what are you doing here?"

"Hmmm?" Fuji stopped flipping the pages and threw the model a quick look, "I merely came back to get my place tickets. I'm going on a small, unplanned vacation tomorrow, so it wouldn't be too good if the tickets were to be forgotten, now would it?" he smiled and let go of the white pages. "Echizen's file is in that drawer." He pointed out and also turned to leave.

Kirkio looked at the black drawer that Fuji pointed out and then back at the photographer's back. "Are you sure you should be helping me? I mean, aren't you friends with Atobe?" he wasn't blind and stupid – it was easy to tell that his boss and the American model have had a past together.

And Fuji knew about it.

"I am. But that doesn't mean I support him." He waved his hand and then made a peace sign, "Good luck, Kiriko."

The Japanese model sighed; why were all the photographers he knew so weird? But then again, this one actually helped him. Kiriko then opened the drawer Fuji had pointed out and started to search for the file that interested him; he had to be quick or else Jun, or someone else, might notice his absence.

"New York…" he muttered to himself after opening Ryoma's file, "I should get ready then."

* * *

Ryoga slowly breathed in, eyes narrowing and getting a bit darker: "I will _not_ give my lil' bro' to _you_. Not after you knocked him up and then decided that it would be fun to dump him." Ryoga leaned away from Keigo, barely containing the urge to hit his stupid face.

It didn't seem that Keigo would take all of this lying down. "First of all," he got up from the chair and pointed at Ryoma, "_He_ was the one that dumped _me_, not that I didn't deserve it. And second of all, Ryoma is capable of deciding that for himself."

Both men were not going to back down or let the other talk shit in his face. Especially Ryoga, for he didn't want to see his little brother crying and depressed again. "Listen here, you rich fuck," he grabbed Keigo by the collar of his shirt, "that doesn't change the fact that you had the guts to hurt him even after knocking him up. Ass."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Keigo had finally gotten his head around what Ryoga was growling at him, "What 'knocking up' are you talking about? He's a man!" he grabbed Ryoga's hand and shook it off from himself.

Ryoga looked surprised for a second, but then a feral grin bloomed on his face. "Ohhh… So you don't know? Ryoma did say he kept quiet about himself to you. Ahahaha! So you don't know, huh?" he walked to the sleeping model and brushed the green tinted hair away from Ryoma's closed eyes. "My baby brother isn't a normal male, you know."

Keigo's eyes widened in surprise to what the other male was saying right now, but before he could retort Ryoga talked again. "You see…" he said, hands gently covering Ryoma's ears, "He's what you'd call a freak."

* * *

**A/N: This took so long for reasons. Forgive me. **

**On a side note – I wonder if those guys, that do the voices of BL games ever get embarrassed or awkward when doing sex scenes? I was thinking about this while listening to Lucky Dog Autumn Chance. It was awkward even for me, so what about them? **

**Yes, I listen to gay porn. Yes, I am a pervert.**


	13. Freaks

**Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, no real humans were used to make this story and the characters featured in this piece of work do not belong to me. Also, I do not make any profit from this.**

**Warning: possible grammar and spelling mistakes, as well as missing letters and/or words. **

**There will also be detailed sex scenes and possible violence, as well as bad language and slang words. This is/will be an mpreg (male pregnancy) story, so if this offends you please do not read it and turn back now.**

**Thank you for your understanding.**

**Bold is for English.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Freaks.**

* * *

"What the hell are you talking about?" Keigo had finally gotten his head around what Ryoga was growling at him, "What 'knocking up' are you talking about? He's a man!" he grabbed Ryoga's hand and shook it off from himself.

Ryoga looked surprised for a second, but then a feral grin bloomed on his face. "Ohhh… So you don't know? Ryoma did say he kept quiet about himself to you. Ahahaha! So you don't know, huh?" he walked to the sleeping model and brushed the green tinted hair away from Ryoma's closed eyes. "My baby brother isn't a normal male, you know."

Keigo's eyes widened in surprise to what the other male was saying right now, but before he could retort Ryoga talked again. "You see…" he said, hands gently covering Ryoma's ears, "He's what you'd call a freak."

The tenseness in room could almost be touched. Keigo's eyes were frozen on the elder Echizen, wide and filled with confusion, even some anger towards Ryoga could be found, if one were to search deeper. But Ryoga didn't even spare a glance at his brother's ex. He merely looked at Ryoma's relaxed face, a far-away look in his eyes.

"You know, Ryoma didn't want to tell you. Since you would be _disgusted _by it and would _reject_ him. Hah!" his voice had that tinge of bitterness and hidden rage, "Well, since you've already made my little brother suffer I guess it would only be fair to let you know, just what you made him go through."

* * *

"What do you mean?" Keigo stepped a few steps back and sat down, he didn't want to seem weak, but for some reason he couldn't stand anymore.

A frightening laugh broke out of Ryoga's mouth, his hands finally letting go of Ryoma's ears. "What am I talking about, you ask? Are you deaf, fucker? I told you already, you knocked him up and then dumped his ass."

Keigo tch-ed and glared at Ryoga's profile, his blue eyes burning holes into the other's head. "And like _I_ already told _you_, males can't be impregnated. You're spouting bullcrap." He turned his head away from the two brothers and sighed, "Besides, the one who did the dumping was Ryoma."

"**Because you didn't give a shit about him anymore!**" Ryoga raised his voice and switched to English, whipping his whole body around, facing Keigo, "**After that goddamned fangirl of yours attacked him and made sure that he can't play anymore, the **_**only reason **_**why you dated him in the first place, you didn't need him anymore. Maybe as a blow-up doll to fuck, if you were in the mood! Talk about bullshit!**"

Ryoga's whole body was trembling; his eyes were shining just like those of a predator ready to pounce and his prey and rip him to pieces. Keigo still wasn't looking at him and that only made Ryoga's self-control wear thinner, his want to break the businessman's bones growing larger.

"It wasn't-!" Keigo tried to calmly say, but Ryoga's fingers were already holding him by the front of his shirt again, this time barely allowing him to breathe.

"_**I don't care!**_**"** The elder Echizen snarled in Keigo's face, "You ruined Ryoma's future, you treated him like crap, _you destroyed him!_ Now let me tell you, motherfucker, what exactly my little brother is, since you seem so hung up on treating _me _like a liar."

Keigo no longer tried to break free of Ryoga's hold, this time merely staying quiet, finally unwillingly looking at the male. He was still sitting on the chair, hands gripping down on it. He refused to show fear, even if a fake one, and let the other male gain some kind of power over him. It was better to try and look calm, collected and uninitimidated.

An evil smile slowly stretched across Ryoga's lips, "You see…" he stretched the words, speaking slowly and carefully emphasizing the words he said next, "My baby brother is what you would call a hermaphrodite. Since you _are_ a stuck up rich brat, you should know what that is, _riiiiight_?"

Facts and information started to float around in Keigo's head. Everything that he knew, had heard about that condition was now slowly repeating itself inside his head, quiet whispers of 'freaks', 'both genders' and 'unnatural' ringing in his ears. Keigo covered his eyes with his hand, his fingertips feeling the cold sweat on his forehead.

"Ryoma is…" he quietly said, or tried to at least. His voice had disappeared; he didn't know just what to say. First time in his life Keigo couldn't muster up anything to say.

Ryoga tch-ed and released Keigo, almost throwing him back into the chair. "Weakling. You are just a pathetic weakling." He ran his hand through his slightly damp hair, throwing a cautious look at Ryoma, "This is why Ryoma never tells people who he actually is. You all treat him like he's a freak, something that shouldn't exist. Makes me sick."

"Then…" Keigo finally got his voice back, although shaky and weak. He held his face in his cold and sweaty hands, his body trembling a bit, "Then, that child, Ryoma's son is.. Oh god." He leaned back in the chair, his blue eyes staring at the dirty ceiling, not seeing anything, "Oh god…"

"Get out." Ryoga finally said, after a long pause. He talked quietly, his voice even and controlled. "Now that you know, get out and never show up in front of Ryoma again. He's suffered enough."

The businessman didn't answer to that. He slowly got up from the chair and glanced Ryoma's way. "I can't promise that." He talked just as slowly and quietly as Ryoga had, "Even if I now feel… even if my feelings are now all mixed up and I do not know how to act now that I know about his, um… _condition_, I still want to… talk to him. Apologize to him and then…"

"And then what?" Ryoga hated the way that Keigo hesitated, clearly having started to doubt his own feelings towards the model sleeping in the hospital bed. Pathetic. "Just because you now know _what_ Ryoma is, you are no longer so sure that you _love_ him, not like you did love him before. So _what else_ is there?" he spat out the words.

"_I don't know!_ I just know that it cannot continue like this anymore! Ignoring each other, suffering alone and bleeding over old wounds… Just… Ugh.." The blue-eyed man shook his head a little, his hands balled up in fists, "Forget it." He finally muttered, "I will… I will just ask him to meet me some other time."

With that Keigo left, leaving behind a room filled with heavy silence, the atmosphere almost suffocating everyone that were in it. Ryoga listened to the soft click of the door as it closed behind his little brother's ex-lover and the footsteps as he walked further and further away from the ward. He waited in the silence a few more moments, quietly thinking everything over.

"Since when were you awake?" he finally asked his younger brother, looking at the pair of golden eyes, which were glued to the window and the view outside.

Ryoma sighed, sitting up in the bed and not looking away from the window, "Long enough."

He made a small, sad smile, as if everything that had been binding him to a heavy rock and pulling deeper into the unknown depths of a cold darkness had been torn and broken and lost, finally. But still, the bitterness remained and the feeling of hollowness was still there.

"This wasn't how I wanted him to find out. In fact, I never wanted him to find out." He quietly said, sighing again.

* * *

Kiriko looked at the flashing screen of his cell phone, silently arguing with himself whether he should pick up the call from Jun. He kept his phone turned off until the moment he was walking through the New York airport, making his way to the taxi parking lot. The call count was up to the almost ridiculous number of thirty and still going up, apparently.

He stopped walking when he was finally outside the airport and the nightly wind hit his face. For a cold and wet fall this night could be considered pretty warm. Kiriko inhaled the nightly air, fresh and cool against his skin and focused his grey eyes on the star-less sky above his head.

When his phone started to buzz in his hand yet again he flipped it open, keeping it in a safe distance away from his ear.

"_KIRI, YOU ASS, just where the hell are you? Do you realize just in what kind of shit you have pushed me in!_" Jun's loud voice shattered the tranquil air around Kiriko, letting out the anger that he had been saving just for this, obviously, "_Now tell me where you are, so I can go and pick you up and get you back here._"

"New York." Kirko waved his hand in the air, calling for the lonely taxi that was parked a bit further away from him.

There was no answer from Jun, so Kiriko was all ready to shut his phone and continue to ignore the people from his agency, but Jun's voice stopped him. "_You are… where?_"

"New York, New York. You know, America." The Japanese model sighed and opened the taxi door, throwing his bag inside and quickly mumbling the address of his hotel to the fat, bearded driver in English.

"_You followed Echizen… Are you out of your mind?_" the model was throwing something around as he talked, so Kiriko had to pay more attention to his friend, "_Fuck. Do you realize what Atobe will do to you? Do you?_"

Kiriko rolled his eyes, "Who cares. This was my last job under him anyway." The model then allowed his eyes to follow the smeared specks of light and signs outside the taxi window, suddenly feeling so very tired.

"_Do what you want. I don't care anymore._" The blonde model finally gave in, sighing in defeat. "_Say hello to Echizen for me._" After those words the line went dead, a steady, yet annoying, beeping now replaced Jun's voice.

_Well that was a useless talk. _The Japanese flipped his phone shut and stuffed it into his jacket's pocket. The soft melody of some popular American sap song reached his ears, as if lulling him to sleep, almost forcefully reminding the man just how tired he was. Kirko just shook his head a little.

He still had to get to his hotel before some much needed sleep.

* * *

Yukimura watched his lover smiling happily to himself; a glass of some expensive wine was in his hands and took a sip from it from time to time. He narrowed his eyes a little, leaning closer to his lover, so that the other passengers of the plane wouldn't hear them that well.

"What did you do this time?" Yukimura had known Fuji for a long time, dated him for a long time and he knew, knew far too well that the Cheshire cat smile of Fuji's lips wasn't there for no reason.

Fuji placed a loose strand of Yukimura's hair just behind his lover's ear and stroked Yukimura's cheek with his thumb, "Whatever do you mean, love?" he answered rather pleasantly, tilting his head to one side.

"You did something. I know you." The model studied Fuji's face a little more, taking in every small detail of his lover. "You played cupid again, didn't you?" he finally mumbled under his nose, falling back in his seat.

"I wouldn't say cupid, but yes, something like that." The photographer laughed a little placing his hand on Yukimura's, "I just helped Kiriko a little, since he deserves it." He was quiet for a moment and then added, "More that Atobe, at least."

"Echizen will not be thanking you for that, Syuu." But Yukimura still smiled a little to himself too, placing his head on Fuji's shoulder and closing his eyes, "Why do you think Kiriko-kun deserves it more anyway? He hasn't done anything."

There was a light hum as Fuji sipped a bit more of his wine, "Well… They're both a bit alike, or so I would like to think."

"I don't get you sometimes."

* * *

**A/N: OTL **

**It looks to me that Royal won't be happening guys. Or will it? Either way, I've started to work on the next chapter for one of my OT6 fics, so… It should be out… Sometimes this year. ^^;;**


	14. Those in Need

**Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, no real humans were used to make this story and the characters featured in this piece of work do not belong to me. Also, I do not make any profit from this.**

**Warning: possible grammar and spelling mistakes, as well as missing letters and/or words. **

**There will also be detailed sex scenes and possible violence, as well as bad language and slang words. This is/will be an mpreg (male pregnancy) story, so if this offends you please do not read it and turn back now.**

**Thank you for your understanding.**

**Bold is for English.**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: Those in Need.**

* * *

"Your son's condition is stable for now – no fever or cough or any other signs. But, to be on the safe side, we will keep him here for a couple more days, to see how it goes." Strauser checked his notes as he talked to Ryoma, "And I will prescribe you some vitamin pills, Mr. Echizen. And for your own good, I recommend you take some time off from work. If possible."

The doctor looked at Ryoma, his eyes showing some sort of compassion, pity even, "You can stay here with your son if you wish to." He finally said and closed his notes. "That's all, so if you would excuse me…"

Strauser turned to leave, ruffling Shuya's hair on his way out and closed the door quietly behind himself. He was a good doctor, Ryoma knew it well, he had been in charge of both the parent and the son ever since Ryoma had come to him and explained what was going on and why he had come. The old man never showed disgust or tried to make Ryoma's condition public, on the contrary – he tried to help as much as he could. Ryoma wasn't the first to come to this man with kind of 'problem'.

So the model was truly grateful for all that Strauser had done and still did for him and his boy.

"So what will you do now? Go back to Japan?" Ryoga asked, leaning against the wall.

Ryoma didn't say anything for a while, choosing to fuss over his son, but then turned to look at his brother and sighed, "Do you honestly believe that I would go back? Of course not."

"I thought so." Ryoga laughed a little. He sighed a little to himself and then walked over to where Ryoma was, sitting next to him on the hospital bed. "So, what will you be doing now? Go back to Aurora and pretend that Atobe was never here or try to talk to him again?"

Ryoma rolled his eyes, "Do you honestly believe that I would just go and talk it out with him? Are you an idiot? I'll go and do what I usually did in Aurora and that's it. Nothing changes."

The elder Echizen shook his head a little and then fell backwards into the bed, looking up at the ceiling. He wanted to say a lot of things to his little brother, but it would probably do no good. Once Ryoma made up his mind, nothing could stop him, not ever the worry of an elder brother.

* * *

Kiriko walked around aimlessly the busy streets of New York. He had the general idea of Ryoma's current whereabouts but he decided that right now wasn't the best time to go and visit. Ryoma's child needed his dad; Kiriko would meet him after things had cooled down. Or so he hoped.

He actually enjoyed the bustle of the crowd around him. It calmed him down, allowed him to clear his mind from all thoughts and just float through the busy streets. He sometimes just allowed the crowd to carry him away, take him to places that he has never been to and show him things that he has never seen before. It was Kiriko's way of relaxing, forgetting about everything and casting away, just for a moment, the mask forced on him by the society and his work.

Right now, he was free.

The Japanese model slipped out from the constantly moving crowd and sat down on one of the free chairs in the outdoor part of the small café. He ordered a cup of black coffee, no sugar and no milk, and a toast to go with it. It wasn't much, but he had just ate breakfast so it will do for now. He sat back and waited for his orders to come as he watched the American people rush by, hurrying to their destination.

Kirito felt _something_ for Ryoma – that much he understood himself. But he couldn't tell what that _something _was. Were these emotions even real? They could just be fake, fleeting images, created simply because he thought that he had finally found someone like him – wounded and hurt and alone. He had suffered as a child and Ryoma suffered too, as a grown man. But those were scars that would be with them for the rest of their lives, nightmares that would never go away and pain and memories that will follow them wherever they go.

But was it really _something_ serious or was it something that could easily fade away?

Kiriko sighed; these thoughts only brought forth a headache and confusion. Once he sees the model he will probably understand what he wants and feels. Or maybe he won't. One may never know what will happen; it was the poor fate of a human being - constant obscurity.

His coffee and toast came, warm and fresh. The waitress eyed him and smiled that flirty smile, definitely not something that she was supposed to do for her customers, and walked away, looking back over her shoulder. Kiriko shook his head a little and sighed – again with the flirting. Just because he was a little over the average man in the looks department…

Just as Kiriko started to mull over the idea of finding another café his phone started to buzz. It wasn't Jun - the ringtone for him was the most annoying melody that Kiriko was able to find. No, this one was the usual slow and slightly sleep-inducing melody that he really liked.

The model sighed and pulled out the phone, expecting it to be a call from his boss or Anzu, informing him about his new status as an unemployed person, but, strangely enough, it wasn't either of them. In fact, the one that was calling was the man that had just been on his mind. But why?

Kiriko answered the call, not sure what to expect.

"_Takahiro-san? I'm calling to say that I will redraw from the 'Seduction' project. I won't give you reasons since you would have dismissed me from the project anyway._" Ryoma's voice was emotionless and he didn't bother to introduce himself.

"Echizen-san, I think you got the wrong number. This is Kiriko." The black-haired man interjected and sipped his coffee. "I can't say I am not happy about this call, albeit not meant for me, obviously."

There was a moment of silence on the other end. "_Crap. Kiriko, sorry about this. I wasn't looking when I called a number form my work list. Sorry._" Now Ryoma's voice had more emotions coloring it, making it sound like it truly did belong to a human being. "_Didn't I tell you to call me Ryoma?_"

"It's ok, no trouble at all and yes; yes you did tell me that."Kiriko placed his coffee back on the table and sighed; it was already too cold for sitting at the outdoor place of the café, "How is your son doing? I heard that you had to rush back to see him."

That was a bit of a lie, but Ryoma didn't need to know that. After all, not all things should be said, for the sake of the other party.

"_He's ok now. Nothing to worry about._" There was a small pause again and then Ryoma cleared his throat lightly, "_I would ask you to come and visit us if you'd like, but you probably can't, so I won't._"

"Actually… I probably can." Kiriko broke off a piece of his toast, but then re-thought and placed it back on the plate. He took the coffee instead.

"_Eh? Aren't you in Japan now?_" Ryoma sounded half surprised and half amused. He even seemed to be laughing a little, but Kiriko might have heard it wrong too. "_Or you've learned how to teleport suddenly?_"

Kiriko managed to make a small laugh of his own, "No, I can't teleport yet. But I can fly using planes. Though, now that I think about it, anyone can." He sipped his hot drink and then added, "I'm in New York right now, decided to visit some friends."

That wasn't entirely false, since he did have friends in New York. But they didn't know that he was here, nor were they expecting him for a visit. But Ryoma didn't have to know that. He might seem stalker-ish and that would be kind of bad. Probably.

"_Wait, you're here, in New York?_" the American model's voice had now taken a confused tone, "_Uh, ok… Well, we can meet up later then, after I get back to the hospital. Um, I'll call you later then, I guess._" He still sounded confused, but not as much as before.

"Yeah, I'll wait for your call then. If you won't forget that is." The Japanese laughed a little and took the broken-off piece of toast.

"_Ha, ha, very funny. See you then._" The line was cut-off and only the soft beep was left for Kiriko to listen to.

The model sighed, shut and pocketed his phone and then ate the toast piece. He had a date plan with Ryoma, excellent. Even if it was just meeting Ryoma's son and simply chatting with the man, for Kiriko it was enough. He will be able to see Ryoma, it was enough for now.

He drank his coffee, ate his toast and watched the people walk by, rushing to work or a meeting and simply aimlessly wandering around it the chilly fall air. Men, women, children and teens, a mix of people of every age passed by the model. All these unfamiliar people he saw for the first and the last time and yet here he was, the one man that Kiriko wasn't expecting to meet in New York.

Atobe Keigo.

His boss was obviously in too much of a hurry to notice his own subordinate, in Kiriko's opinion. But the mystery of life and fate and karma and all that crap proved him wrong in that one single moment when Keigo's dark blue eyes landed on him and the man stopped. Grey eyes narrowed ever so lightly and the Japanese model forced a fake smile on his lips, silently hoping that his employer would simply go away.

"Kiriko, what in the world are _you_ doing _here_?" Keigo spoke slowly and looked down on the other (once he was close enough to do so). He didn't look too pleased about this, rather, he had the look of someone who about _this close _to blowing up.

Kiriko shrugged, "This and that, just this and that."

* * *

Kevin took off the clothes that had been used for today's shoot and threw them on his chair. The dressing room he was in was rather cramped, with all kinds of clothes, accessories, make up and God-knows-what-else. Sometimes Kevin wondered why he even got into this job.

The blonde sighed and got his own clothes to put on, after he will clean his face off of all the crap that was put on it. He really, _really _hated when shoots required for him to wear make-up. But what could he do, apart from keeping his mouth shut and posing for yet another pretty photo? Well, at least he got some good money out of this, just like the man, who had once showed him this business, had told.

And then Kevin got Ryoma into this. Well, he wasn't suffering alone, at least. But Ryoma was far better at making fake smiles and awkward poses for the sake of the camera. Speaking of Ryoma, Kevin wondered what was going on in America now. He had heard from his friend just yesterday, but still… He was worried.

"**Stupid photographer - didn't know a shit.**" Kevin mumbled under his nose as he decided to forget about his friend for now.

A low chuckle suddenly came from behind him and soon after a voice said: "**He's new, what do you want. It was the first time that he had seen someone with a presence as intense as yours.**" An accent could be heard lacing the language, but not as big as to warp the words into unrecognizable sounds.

"My presence shouldn't interact with his work." The American replied, not looking back at the other. He already knew who the guy was, obviously. "Besides, you should really stop being so obvious; I can _feel_ you _staring_." He smirked and got the make-up removal from the small bag on the table.

"Sorry, sorry. It's just a habit." The other replied, "I like well-kept bodies." He added a second later, as if explaining his actions from earlier.

Kevin rolled his eyes and finished with removing the last bits of make-up from his face. "Oh really? And you weren't just checking me out Jun?" he turned around and smirked at the green-eyed model standing in the doorway.

Jun shrugged and averted his eyes a little, "Like I said, I have a _thing_ for well toned bodies. Both a man's and a woman's. Doesn't really matter don't you think?" he licked his lips and then looked back at Kevin, his green eyes now having a dangerous shine to them.

"I wonder." Kevin shook his head a little and then turned around to get his shirt.

Jun walked closer to the blonde and stopped right behind him. Kevin knew what the other wanted, partly because he wanted it too. But nothing came this easy to people and even if his wants were the same as Jun's, there was no way he would give it to him just like that.

"You know," Jun started, poking Kevin's back lightly, just in the middle, where the spine was, "I felt you watching me too. More than once." he only widened his smirk and raised his head a little when Kevin turned to face him again.

The American secretly enjoyed the glint of _need_ in those dark green eyes, "Oh really, and what will you _do_ about it?" It was a challenge. And he was well aware of the consequences to come.

Without saying a work Jun grabbed Kevin's chin and lifted the blonde's head up a little, the American was shorter that him and that was just perfect, and leaned down. He licked his colleague's lips and then bit the lower one, asking for an entrance. Kevin did just what the other wanted and opened his mouth a little, just as much as Jun needed.

Tongues stroked and saliva mixed, bodies pushed against each other and low moans escaped from somewhere deep inside their throats. Animalistic desire woke up inside of them, Jun's arms sneaked down and stopped once they had reached Kevin's ass and squeezed. A light moan, slightly deeper than the rest, escaped from the blonde model and he bit Jun's bottom lip.

"Now, now, not so feisty." Jun teased once they had broken apart. "Although, I don't mind it."

Kevin snorted, "At least let's get somewhere more private, idiot."

* * *

**A/N: Guys, guys! I am in university, learning Japanese! Andandand… I have a joint account with my hubby, it is called **_**TheSoulsOfSilence**_**. And I'm so tired and… I had a birthday last week. Yay?**

**Well… I'm kind of really tired and I won't update as much as before (but I never updated much tho), so… Yeah. **


	15. For better or worse

**Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, no real humans were used to make this story and the characters featured in this piece of work do not belong to me. Also, I do not make any profit from this.**

**Warning: possible grammar and spelling mistakes, as well as missing letters and/or words. **

**There will also be detailed sex scenes and possible violence, as well as bad language and slang words. This is/will be an mpreg (male pregnancy) story, so if this offends you please do not read it and turn back now.**

**Thank you for your understanding.**

**Bold is for English.**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: For better or worse.**

* * *

Heavy breathing filled the dark room; a couple of whispered curses broke the rhythmic sound, only to be accompanied by a low growl and an accidental moan. Flesh slapping against flesh, whispered words, swallowed by the darkness and the others hungry mouth.

It was just sex. Just simple, almost animalistic sex.

Kevin tried not to make too much noise. Even if they were in a hotel room, where the walls were thick and one could scream as loud as he wanted, the model didn't want to make noise. He would keep as quiet as possible, just like the times before, and not let his partner know just how bad or good he was.

"Oh come on," Jun breathed against Kevin's ear, pushing himself deeper into the blonde, "make some noise. I want to hear that sexy voice calling out to me over and over _and over_ again." He held Kevin's hips tighter and straightened out.

Being taken from behind wasn't exactly what Kevin had wanted, but for a one-night stand and a sexual release this would be perfect. And it also wasn't like he liked to be the one on the receiving end either, but… this guy had skills. Wicked skills, if Kevin had to me more precise. Either way, the sex was good; his partner was pretty ok, now if he could shut up, that would be even more of a turn-on.

"Neee? Gimme some voice man, I feel like I'm doing a doll otherwise." Jun made sure to thrust extra hard and deep, luring out a moderately loud moan from his fellow model, "See? That's more like it."

Kevin glared at the wall in front of him. "**Assface**." He gripped the sheets under him tighter and groaned, uttering a few more curses right after.

"Now, now… Aren't we feisty?" Jun smacked Kevin's ass, earning something like a yelp and then leaned down again to kiss the sweaty back, leaving behind light marks that would soon disappear. "I love the feisty ones."

"Shut… up… nhh.." Kevin breathed out, not quite as demanding or scary sounding as he had wanted to sound. "Should have.. uhhg.. said no." he hissed through clenched teeth, nails digging into the mattress.

Jun sucked lightly on Kevin's skin and smirked, "Sorry babe, but no one can say no to me." He picked up his pace and tried to move so that he was hitting that one spot he knew could make even Kevin week in his knees, "No one."

"Narcissistic assbutt."

* * *

"So was it that bad?" Jun asked, all smiles and secret plans, when Kevin got out of the shower. Dark green roamed over the naked, well kept and wet body that was presented to him, taking in all the small details that he had overlooked before.

Kevin glared, knowing all too well what Jun was looking at and what he wanted, "Didn't suck as much as I'd expected it to." He grabbed a bottle of water from the mini refrigerator and opened it, "But it won't happen again."

Jun hmm-ed and then sighed, "Really now? But we have _perfect_ chemistry between us. I'd even let you top me, if you want to." He fell back into the bed, spreading his arms wide and closing his eyes, "Best sex ever man."

The American said nothing; he just drank the cool water with big gulps, enjoying the coolness that ran through him as he drank. The sex _had_ been pretty good, but not good enough to do it again, not with Jun, at least. He was sneaky and mysterious and a little _too_ good at this. And Kevin didn't sleep with the same person twice, never.

* * *

It was cold and windy and snowing already. Kevin actually liked this weather - it cooled him down, cleared his mind and allowed him to just float through the streets, not caring about a thing in the world. There are few people out on the streets, partly because it was a bit too cold for comfort and partly because it was around four in the morning. Thankfully, tomorrow was a day off.

Kevin sighed for reasons unknown, looking at the puff of white, warm breath that emerged from his mouth and then quickly disappeared into the cold air. He should call Ryoma, probably, but maybe he was busy, who knew? And he didn't want to seem too much of a worry-wart. Though, towards Ryoma only, he probably was.

Just as these thoughts finally started to settle down his phone started to ring, blasting some rock song in full volume. But it didn't matter how loud the melody was, no one was around to hear it, except Kevin. He pulled out the phone from the pocket of his jeans and answered, without checking the caller ID. He was too tired for that.

"Hello?" His voice was unusually quiet. Maybe it was the cold, maybe the feeling of emptiness that came after empty sex.

"_Kevin? You sure sound like crap. Another one nighter?_" Ryoma seemed equally as tired, but for different reasons, obviously.

The blonde rolled his eyes. Why did his best friend _had to_ rub it in each time this happened? "And you sound like someone who had just been dumped. Let's leave these problems aside for now, shall we?" he even managed to make a small laugh.

"_Yeah, yeah._" Kevin imagined Ryoma rolling his eyes now, "_Keigo found me. And then I found out Kiriko's here too. Do you happen to be a part of this?_" there was this _edge_ to Ryoma's voice that Kevin couldn't quite understand.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. Who knows." The model stopped at a red light, waiting for the cars to stop once again, "But seriously, I know nothing." He had gotten pretty good at lying, Kevin noted.

There was a small pause on Ryoma's end, "_I don't believe you, but whatever._" Another pause, "_…What should I do?_" he sounded a little bit desperate now.

Kevin tapped with his foot; it really was a bit too cold outside now, "Do about what?"

"_You know, Keigo and Kiriko._" Ryoma tched and then sighed, Kevin imagined his friend standing up and starting to pace around the apartment, "_Even though I still lo-… unn… love Keigo, Kiriko feels… right. I don't know how to put it. He seems to know the same sort of pain that I went through. But…_"

"So you have started to feel something towards him?" the green light was finally on for him so the blonde ran across the street quickly, wanting to get out of the biting cold faster, "I won't tell you to listen to your heart, cause that's bull. But I will tell you this – pick the one that cares and accepts."

There was a chuckle on Ryoma's end, a small whisper that didn't quite reach Kevin's ears and then Ryoma spoke, "_You suck at giving advices, you know that?_" a small pause again, "_Keigo found out about Shuya and me._"

"And he rejected you, didn't he? Expected nothing less from that asshole." Kevin stopped in front of a convenience store, the idea of going in and getting a cup of hot coffee to go popping up in his head, but he shook his head and simply started to walk again, "Do you really still love him, or are those just memories of what you felt?"

"_What do you mean?_" Ryoma sounded confused. His voice was quieter than before, words sharper.

"What I mean is – you just convinced yourself that you love that assbutt, but in reality you don't. Something like the placebo effect." Kevin explained. He might not look like it, be he _was_ smarter than people thought him to be, "And actually you have the hots for Kiriko. Even though I have no idea why you would have hots for him."

There was a small hmm that came from his friend and then the man spoke up, "_I wonder…. Thank you anyway. You helped, a bit._" The sincerity was well masked, but still there.

"Just for you, my friend. Just for you." Kevin hung up, climbing the stairs to get to his own apartment. It was time for a hot bath and then some well deserved sleep.

* * *

"Waah, he's pretty cure, this little man." Kiriko crouched down so that he would be on the same eye level as Ryoma's son, Shuya, and ruffled the purple-ish hair, making the kid whine in annoyance. "So soft!"

Ryoma smiled weakly, putting Shuya's clothes on the bed and then taking out the juice and food from the bag. After that he placed the extra clothes in the little closet, taking the dirty ones out and throwing them on the bag without even bothering to fold them beforehand. Next he placed the food and juice into the mini-fridge and threw out the empty packages and wrappings.

"Funny little brat, haha." Kiriko laughed and lifted the three year old up. He stared at the honey-colored eyes; almost exact copy of Ryoma's, sparkling with childish joy and laughter, and spun the kid around, "Kids like this, right?"

Ryoma shook his head, "Just be careful. This _is _a hospital." Though, there was no anger or disapproval in his voice, just relief that Shuya seemed to like the model.

Kiriko stopped spinning Shuya, his world had started to spin just a little too much for his liking. He set the kid down on the ground, making sure that he got his balance right before letting go of him and then straightened up, sighing in content. Who would have thought that Ryoma would invite him to see the little kid so soon, barely a day later?

The Japanese model sat on the small bed, grey eyes watching every more that Ryoma made; he caught every word that came out of Ryoma's mouth as he fussed over his child. It was something like a small miracle for Kiriko - to have found someone like Ryoma; it was as if God had finally showed that even he, a child of a drunkard, deserved His love. The scars on his back maybe have stopped aching, but the nightmares that knocked on his dreams every knight never stopped. They only got worse, with no one there to tell him that it wasn't his fault, that he wasn't the one that was filthy and to blame.

And Ryoma was the one who knew how it felt, how much it hurt. And he understood. Even if the American model didn't know about the origin of his scars and nightmares. Even in he didn't know about the darkness inside of Kiriko.

So every moment that he spent with Ryoma was calming, soothing even. Though, it might not be like that for Ryoma, since his scars were essentially different than his own. They ran deeper, scarred his heart and soul, never really healing.

"Kiriko, are you ok?" Ryoma's voice sounded weak to him, almost a whisper against his ear. "You look pale."

The Japanese model blinked a couple of times, the blur that had settled before his eyes was slowly starting to crawl away, leaving behind dizziness and a bad taste in Kiriko's mouth. He took a few deep breaths and then waved his hand, "I'm ok, I'm ok. Just a little dizzy, that's all."

"You sure? Just dizziness?" Ryoma touched Kiriko's forehead and sighed.

"Sorry. I didn't sleep too well, nothing more. Bad dreams often come to me at night, nothing new there." The black-haired man smiled a little and then stood up, "Maybe I should run around with your kid - fun for him, exercise for me."

Ryoma smiled a little, even letting out a small laugh and shook his head. "Brats. Don't overdo it, you don't look to well."

* * *

Keigo hit his head lightly against the white wall just outside Shuya's room. He hears the soft laughter of the three year old, mixed with Ryoma's voice and wishes that for a moment he could go deaf and not hear a thing, not hear Ryoma's voice as it softens when he speaks with his child and Kiriko, not hear his quiet laugh that Keigo had dreamed of hearing for so long… He wished he could go deaf, even just for a minute or two. It would be so much better then – less painful.

He knew that he was to blame for all of this; he knew it all too well. And yet… and yet, just like any human being, he didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to face the fact, he didn't want to say goodbye to Ryoma just yet, not when he had finally understood the weight of what he had done, understood just how precious was what he had lost. He had only just understood the love that he felt.

And it was to end here, it seemed.

"Ok, ok. Go and torture Kiriko for a bit, I will go in a second." The way Ryoma spoke it was obvious that what he felt right now could be called happiness.

Keigo quickly pushed himself away from the wall and walked inside the room that was in front of Shuya's, closing the door slightly behind himself, only so that he would be hidden from view, but he could still hear what was going on outside.

Moments later the pitter-patter of small feet dashed past and down the hall, followed by slow footsteps of Kiriko, or so the purple-haired businessman presumed. He waited in the empty room for a while longer, just to make sure that no one that could recognize him was left in the hallway. He walked out of the room, glanced where the two had gone and then allowed his eyes to travel to Shuya's room, quiet shuffle of clothes came from it.

He glanced inside, careful to not be seen by Ryoma. Keigo's eyes widened, hand gripped the doors tightly and then he had to force himself not to let out that choke or whine or whatever it was that threatened to break out of him. Ryoma was folding Shuya's dirty clothes, carefully placing them inside his bag and smiling to himself. It was the same smile that was the reason why he had fallen in love with Ryoma those years ago. It was the smile of an innocent, young man, just barely in the middle of his teens, that was void of pain and regret and loneliness.

But that smile could no longer be directed towards him and he could no longer be a part of Ryoma's world. It was just like Kiriko had pointed out yesterday – he was worthless, he was nothing. He was a fool and should no longer chase what was out of his grasp.

Without saying a word Keigo turned away and left, leaving behind his hopes of getting something that he didn't deserve and finally allowing Ryoma to move forward.

It was for the best like this.

For the sake of both of them, for the sake of those that hoped and dreamed still.

* * *

**A/N: Truthfully, I have lost all track of what I wanted for this story to become. This chapter was supposed to come out entirely different from what it is now, a bit happier ending - a different ending entirely, actually. But… Was is the music that I was listening to? My mood? I don't know. But the new chapter turned out like this and I no longer know what exactly will become of this story. **

**I also think that I am nearing the end. There was never a solid number of chapters meant for it, so the fact that I feel like I am nearing the end… It means something. I have the ending sort of planned out, actually, now that I've re-made the whole plot in my head, I am certain that It will not be as solid and maybe even convincing, but it is the ending that I want. **

**I wasn't going to post anything this month anymore, but somehow this just happened. So yeah, I hope that you will stick with me until the bitter end. I will also paste the announcement I had put on my profile and at the latest chapter of 'I cry for the last time', in case someone had missed it.**

**That's all guys. Have a good day, you are all awesome. Never forget that.**

**Ayingott out.**

* * *

**So, I have decided to no longer do any long term multi-chapter fics. Do no worry, I plan to finish what I have started, but I will not make new ones. The 'Future Ideas' will stay on my profile, in case someone wants to use them, or I will, in time, start to write long-term again. But, what I want to say is - this is stressing me out. The expectations from you and the plot that I have to keep moving, it's hard on me. I hope to slowly become a one-shot only author.**

**As for the two OT6 stories that I have. Sadly, I... I both love and hate them. Therefore, they will be updated very slowly. And let's face it - they (or none of my works) are really that popular (that was also one of the reasons why I don't want to do long-term stories anymore).**

**Thank you to those that actually care about me and read this. If you want to - feel free to write me, i don't bite.**


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